City of the Fallen
by faeriegirl12
Summary: When Clary and Jonathan Morgenstern transfer to Idris High School, they meet a strange group on campus. The Shadowhunters aren't just a group of "bad kids"- they turn out to be more dangerous and seductive than Clary ever thought. When Jonathan gets sucked into the group, will Clary follow him into a life of partying, drugs, alcohol, and crime? See first chapter for full summary.
1. Chapter 1: Idris High School

**City of the Fallen**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instruments or the Infernal Devices.**

**Summary: When Clary Morgenstern and her brother, Jonathan, are forced to transfer to the esteemed Idris High School in Britain, they are less than pleased. But there's a strange group going on in Idris High School—the Shadowhunters. The Shadowhunters aren't just a group of "bad kids"—they turn out to be more dangerous and seductive than Clary ever expected. When Jonathan become a Shadowhunter and gets sucked into the group, will Clary follow his lead into the world of partying, drugs, and crime?**

**I have this rated T for now, but it might turn to M (not for sex, but for things like partying, alcohol, drugs, and mental illnesses). **

**This fanfic is a little darker, but definitely has humor. So if partying, alcohol, drugs, and mental illness are triggers to you, don't read or be prepared. **

**Chapter One: Idris High School**

* * *

_All the world's a stage_

_And all the men and women merely players._

-William Shakespeare, _As You Like It_

* * *

I woke up with a groan. First day of school, check. The lovely time of six-thirty in the morning? Check. Did I already feel like murdering someone? Triple check. Preferably my obnoxious older brother, Jonathan Morgenstern, who happened to be violently shaking me awake while yelling something.

"_Clarissa! _Wake up already!" Jonathan shouted. Right in my ear, might I add.

I wanted to bury my head under my pillow. No, scratch that—I wanted to throw it at him.

I rolled over, sat up, and felt my head collide with something. "I'm awake, Jon! Jesus."

Jon was rubbing his forehead indignantly. "Ouch! What the hell, Clary?"

"Serves you right," I muttered blackly. "What time does this bloody school start? Do all schools in Britain start this early?"

Jon looked like he was fighting back a laugh. "Seven-thirty. So get your butt downstairs in fifteen, or your ride is leaving without you."

"Fine," I growled. "Now get out of my room. And get my some coffee—black, _just like my soul_."

"What a charmer," I heard him mumble as he stalked out of my room.

Seven-thirty. My old school, St. Xavier's, started at a fairly reasonable time. But when Valentine, my ridiculous father, decided that we were moving to Britain as a _family _so Jonathan and I could get a "proper" education and so he could meet up with the old family friends, the Lightwoods, Jon and I had to transfer to probably the snobbiest high school in Britain, of course: Idris High School. But it was supposedly good. Oooooh. St. Xavier's was good too, though! Now in addition to the disgusting stress of a new school, I had to leave my best friend, Simon, back in New York. Depressing. I'd just woken up, but I could already tell that this was going to be a very, very bad day.

I finished getting dressed, throwing on whatever my fingers touched first, and ran a brush through my untamable curly red hair. I wasn't the only redhead in my family—my mother, Jocelyn, was too—but unlike me, she was actually pretty. Whereas I was short, with freckles everywhere, and obtrusively bright hair. You wouldn't believe the number of times I've heard, "Do you dye your hair?" Ugh. Oh, yeah, I totally dye it to achieve the desired effect of looking like a cartoon character. Nope.

I hoped like hell that Jon had coffee ready downstairs, or it was going to be a long day.

"She awakens," Jon said sarcastically, and shoved a cup of black coffee across the counter to me.

I downed half of it in a matter of seconds before I thought about replying to that. "Where's Dad? And Mom?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Valentine is out at a business meeting. He left this." Jon waved a plain sticky note in the air. "He says to have a 'wonderful' day. And to make proper friends. Mom is at some kind of art class or something."

"Whatever." I finished the rest of my coffee and placed the cup in the sink. "When are we leaving?"

Jonathan shot a glance at the clock. "Now. We have to get there early to get our schedules and uniforms."

I almost choked. "_Uniforms?_"

A grin nearly split Jonathan's face in half. "Didn't Valentine mention that to you?"

"No," I snapped. I figured he'd probably thought I'd kill him on the spot if he told me. "I'm talking to him about this after school. C'mon, Jonathan, let's go."

And that was exactly how I found myself standing in front of an enormous, beautiful building fifteen minutes later. An enormous, beautiful, absolutely _intimidating _building. The architecture looked like what would happen if you threw Victorian and Gothic into a blender. I couldn't decide if I liked it or not.

Jon locked the car, and then stuffed the keys in his pocket. We both stood at the edge of the campus for a minute, just staring at everything. First of all, for a surprisingly large campus, the student body looked tiny in comparison.

I spotted a group of girls huddled together. Uh-oh. Looked like popular girls, which can be compared to rabid dogs. You'd be surprised at how many similarities there are between them. Such as, they're always growling and biting others. . .

_Quit it, Clary, _I scolded myself. Now was definitely _not _the time to be thinking about that, considering there was a group of them standing scarcely ten feet away from me, and whatever I was thinking tended to become word vomit. It was the first day of school, and I damn well didn't need to set a pack of them on me.

Suddenly, I noticed Jon had started towards the entrance and I was left standing like an idiot with my mouth open. Just great.

"Jon! Wait!" Before I knew it, I was sprinting after him, dodging around the group of girls, who looked scandalized. A blonde boy with tawny eyes stared at me in amusement, and a skinny blonde girl with bloodshot eyes whispered something in a malicious tone to him.

"Nicely done, Clarissa," Jon muttered in an undertone, and I could tell I'd embarrassed him.

"Get used to it, Jon." I threw open the door and thanked the almighty heavens that there was no one in the office.

An ugly woman with long, black nails and a sour expression turned to face us. "Oh. And you are. . . ?"

"Jonathan Morgenstern," Jon interrupted me. "And my sister, Clarissa Morgenstern."

"You don't look related," the lady snapped suspiciously. "Are you sure you're not dating and trying to trick me?"

Jon looked like he was going to forcefully vomit directly into the trash can.

"He's sure," I told the woman. Jon still looked green. "Could we please have our schedules?"

The lady scowled at us, but got them nonetheless. "Your rooms and uniforms will be ready tomorrow."

"Our rooms?" I asked Jon as we quickly went out of the office before the rude lady in there could make another snarky comment.

Jon looked horrified as we arrived back outside. "Clary, look at those other buildings over there. They're dorms."

"Dorms. . . ?" Then it hit. "Wait. A. Minute. Valentine intends for us to _live _here?! Did he tell you this?"

Jonathan cursed. "No. Probably because he thought I might beat the crap out of something if he did. Dammit."

"I can't _believe _him! Who the hell does he think he is?"

Jon was just about to reply when someone tapped him on the shoulder. We both turned around to see a girl with really, really blue eyes smiling angelically up at him.

I could see Jon checking her out (and vice versa), and rolled my eyes. School hadn't even technically _started_ and Jon had already acquired a fan club, for the love of God!

"What's your name?" The girl asked flirtatiously. Her silky blonde hair blew back with the wind, making her look like some kind of Pantene model. I couldn't decide between two thoughts: _Jealous! _or _Oh, gross. _

"I'm Jonathan Morgenstern. And you are. . . ?"

"Kaelie Fey," smiled Kaelie. I couldn't tell if she was actually smiling sweetly or if it was for her slack-jawed friends' benefit standing a mere few feet behind us.

"I'm just going to. . ." I muttered, desperate to get away from Jon and Kaelie's newly formed flirtationship. I edged off to the right, narrowly missing a tall girl with a red-lipsticked mouth and glaring eyes like green jewels.

I looked down at my schedule as I headed towards what I hoped was the building where the classes were. First period: English. Second period: Art. Lunch. Third period: Math. Fourth period: History. Good thing: There was only four periods in a day. Bad thing: They all were an hour and a half long. Ugh.

I shot a quick look behind me, and now Jonathan was surrounded by Kaelie, the blonde girl I'd very nearly ran into, and another girl with long, curly hair. Two-thirds of them looked like they were outright fawning over him. Ew.

". . . and I'm playing football here. . ." I heard him brag. Oh Jonathan, don't you know it's not called football in Britain? Sigh. My brother, the instantaneous celebrity. Nicely done, bro.

I laughed quietly to myself, watching my brother make himself look like a fool. All of a sudden, another boy sauntered up to their little fangirl clique. This boy had blonde hair and tawny eyes—the same one I'd seen talking to the blonde girl with bloodshot eyes, who I thought was Pantene-Commercial Kaelie Fey.

As soon as Kaelie heard the tawny-eyed boy behind her, she jumped away from Jon, who looked severely disappointed, with a little shriek of joy.

"Hi, Jace!" Kaelie squealed so loudly I heard it from the entrance to Idris, which was on the other side of the grass where they were.

The boy who was called Jace smiled a slow, almost predatory smile at Kaelie. Well, I had no doubt about what _their _relationship was like, then. He whispered something in Kaelie's ear, and she smirked at him.

"Obviously, Jacey. . . Anyways, see you tonight!" Oh, yuck. I'd probably have to carry an air-sickness bag around this school. Kaelie danced back over to Jonathan, who was, as far as I could tell, was still rambling on about his stunt in "football."

I noticed a spark of distaste color Jace's face at the pet name "Jacey", but it was gone in a heartbeat. Well, I couldn't blame him. . . If I were him at that moment, I think I would've broken up with Kaelie right there and then.

It was at that moment that I noticed Jace was heading straight towards me. _Crap, crap, crap. _I didn't really feel like running into a hot boy when I looked like. . . yeah.

The Gods may have graced me with the office miracle, but luck wasn't on my side anymore. Jace wandered over to the door I was oh-so-surreptitiously standing right outside, with my nose buried in my schedule like it was the newest manga or something, because I clearly hadn't been watching his whole exchange with Kaelie. Duh. Not suspicious at all, right?

I prayed that he would open up the door and walk inside instead of stopping to talk to the freakishly new girl, but nope. Not even.

"Are you new here?"

I looked up, pretending that I'd never seen him before. "First day."

Jace cracked a flirtatious grin, and I felt irritated. The only boys who smiled like that knew exactly how good-looking they were, and had practically heard it since birth. They might've been hot, but were usually arrogant players, and not at all my type. "What's your name?"

"Clarissa, but I hate that, so call me Clary." I was going to "ask" what Jace's name was—still playing the charade that I didn't know who he was—but decided against it. Guys like that usually just tell you anyways, with an ego-inflating comment about themselves tacked on.

Jace looked at me thoughtfully. "I don't think I'm going to call you Clary. I think I'll call you Red."

Ginger jokes. I repressed a sigh, settling for rolling my eyes instead. "You're annoying."

"Not just annoying, Red, but extremely handsome and intelligent as well. It's a gift." Jace winked at me. Why was he hitting on me? Didn't he _have_ a girlfriend already? "I'm Jace, by the way."

"Whatever." I was preparing myself to walk away from Jace, when he caught my wrist.

"Wait, Red. Do you know who that guy is over there?"

I didn't have to look where he was pointing to guess it was Jon.

"If I answer that, will you let go of me?" I pulled against his grip with no avail, until, finally he released me. "He's Jonathan Morgenstern."

Jace looked puzzled. "I thought you were new here. . . ?"

"Yeah, he's my brother." I watched the surprise play out on Jace's features, and before he could turn to ask me another question ("Hey, Red, how can I win back the attention of the girls I so love?" Probably not, but funny to imagine), I had slipped into the school, and was power-walking off to my first class—English.

* * *

I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. No mean girl comments had been thrown my way yet, I'd found my second class already (even if it meant that I had walked around the whole school during break, but no one needs to know that), hadn't run into Jon again, and had even ditched Jace outside the campus. Success. Or at least I thought so, until Art started, and then I wanted to die.

I knew there was a possibility that I might end up in the same class as Jace. I couldn't decide whether that would be bad or not. Half of my brain was going, _Yum, hot boy _while the other half was resonating some spiel about how players are never good people to crush on.

The bell rang, and I took a quick inventory of my classmates. They all seemed to know each other very well, unlike St. Xavier's, where there were the certain groups and cliques, but not everyone seemed to be as friendly as they were with each other here. They were all clustered into one large group, leaving me sitting awkwardly on the fringe of their outside members.

After studying them for several minutes while the art teacher, Ms. Branwell, launched into a speech about the contents of the syllabus and the art fees, I was pretty sure I had their group figured out, creepily enough.

There was a boy with strange silver hair and eyes who was holding the hand of a girl with thick, dark hair and pretty gray eyes. Next to him was a pair of boys that were obviously brothers—sandy-haired and green-eyed. The two green-eyed brothers were deep in conversation with two girls: one had jet-black hair and impossibly violet-blue eyes, while the other hair thick curls and luminous hazel eyes. Next to the brothers and the girls they were talking to was a dark-haired boy with ice-blue eyes, looking slightly aloof. Next to him was a ribbon-slender girl with a waterfall of straight, sleek, dark hair. Then, rounding out the group were two blonde girls: Kaelie Fey (whose eyes were still bloodshot) and one with delicately curling blonde hair and chocolate-brown eyes. I was pretty sure that this was just the start of whatever massive-sized clique these people belonged to.

Then, just as Ms. Branwell began talking about what materials she had stored in the art room, Jace stumbled in, and if I hadn't known better, I would've said he looked slightly drunk. But that was ridiculous. Who had the audacity to get drunk on the first day of school, and right in the _middle _of school, nonetheless?

He shot a grin at me. I pretended that my hair was the most impenetrable curtain possible. Jace plopped down next to Kaelie, almost losing his tedious sense of balance, and Kaelie did a mini-squeal of, "Jacey!" Oh please. Spare me the lovey-dovey PDA already.

Ms. Branwell regarded Jace from his seat, where he grinned sloppily at her. "Sorry, Ms. Branwell, I got held up."

Ms. Branwell might've been small, but she certainly knew how to command respect from her students. I looked on as she lectured Jace, giving him a detention after school, and then continued on with her speech.

"Jace," hissed Kaelie, "where were you? You weren't even here in science!" Her voice rose in pitch, but, impressively enough, she still managed to keep it down to a whisper.

"I was out." Jace zipped open his backpack and showed her something inside it. "See? I got a lot for us."

I strained to hear their conversation, to see if my Drunk-Jace theory was valid. At the moment, however, Jace could've been talking about vodka, drugs, or condoms. I wasn't sure which, and the way he said it to Kaelie made them all sound equally revolting.

The boy with the icy-colored eyes leaned backwards to talk to Jace. "Jace. Kaelie's right—where _were _you?"

A stupid grin appeared on Jace's face. _Drunk-Jace theory fifty-percent approved._ "I was out, Alec."

"Well," whispered Alec, "you can't keep getting drunk before class, Jace. Remember what happened last year? I don't care if we're in the Shadowhunters, but this has to stop before you get expelled."

_Aha! _Caught you, "Jacey." Red-handed, might I add.

Jace sighed gustily. He was definitely wasted. "I'm not going to get expelled. The teachers love me too much. Besides, last year is _last year. _I don't give a crap about it."

Alec gave him a warning look. "I don't think the teachers are going to 'love' you once they find out what's in your backpack."

"And? Doesn't everyone carry alcohol in their backpack at one point?"

Alec pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dammit, Jace, that's not the point. Besides, I know you, and I would bet money right now that it's not just alcohol but some kind of drug."

"Dude. You're in the Shadowhunters. This is what we do." Jace smirked, and turned to talk to Kaelie, completely ignoring Alec, whom I felt a surge of sympathy for.

Ms. Branwell finished going over the syllabus, and stood up. "Our first project of the year is to draw or paint a picture of someone or something. You decide the subject. But it's due three weeks from now, and we will be working on it mostly in class."

For a second there, I thought she was going to decide for us. Thank God she didn't. I immediately began thinking of a subject, oblivious to the bell ringing until the slender girl with the charcoal-colored hair, who was also wearing stilettos accidentally stepped on my foot.

Ouch. I made a mental reminder to never wear high heels to school out of courtesy for the other people there.

"I'm sorry!" the girl apologized. "I didn't see you there and. . . sorry."

"It's fine," I smiled at her. Perfect opportunity for friend-making, right? Not really, just an awkward situation. "I've had worse."

"I still feel kinda bad," she confessed sheepishly. "What's your name again?"

That was when the Oh-God-Where's-That-Hole-In-The-Floor part began. Aka: Jace cutting in.

Jace, who had unfortunate timing, drunkenly stomped over to the girl and me, waving frantically in my direction. There was no doubt in my mind: he was one hundred and two percent drunk.

"Izzy!" he slurred. "Iz! I didn't know you know Red!"

The charcoal-haired girl looked at Jace like he was an idiot, and then it seemed to click. She turned to Kaelie. "Did he actually. . . ?"

Kaelie seemed vaguely pleased, and nodded. "Oh, yes, Isabelle. And you won't _believe _how much he has in his backpack!"

Interest lit Isabelle's nearly black eyes. "What for?"

"There's a back-to-school party tonight in Magnus's room," Kaelie said eagerly. "We're all going. Are you?"

"Hell, yeah!" Isabelle exclaimed, unfazed. A back-to-school party? My ass. They were all probably going to go and get as drunk, if not drunker, than Jace was at the moment.

Jace threw an arm around my shoulders and I could feel Kaelie shooting daggers at me. "Red! Are you going?"

I cringed. That nickname was just. . . no. Attempting vainly to throw his arm off me, I stammered, "Um. . ."

I was saved from answering that by Isabelle, who was looking at the pair of us as if we had both sprouted an extra head. "Your name is _Red?_"

"No!" I exclaimed, annoyed. "It's just this stupid nickname. . . Anyways, long story short, my name is Clary Morgenstern."

Kaelie looked pissed. "Jacey gave _you _a nickname?"

"It's not like I want one!" I snapped at Kaelie. "Does he call you Blondie?"

Kaelie huffed, then spun around, calling over her shoulder, "See you tonight, Jacey!"

Isabelle mimed throwing up, and pried Jace off me. "Seriously Jace, with all the stuff you'll drink at Magnus's tonight, you're going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow."

Jace grinned at her. "You're no better, Iz."

Isabelle shot him a dirty look. "Go and find Kaelie or something."

Once Jace had staggered off, she turned back to me. "Sorry about that. So you're Clary?"

"That's me. And you are. . . Isabelle, I'm guessing?"

Isabelle smiled prettily. "Isabelle Lightwood, to be exact. But Jace wasn't joking about the party thing. Are you going to go?"

I felt sort of surprised. So here was one of the infamous Lightwoods Valentine had moved all the way to Britain to talk to.

I hesitated. One side of me knew that associating with this group would lead me to a dead end. The other side was the nightlife-Pandemonium-with-Simon side, screaming at me to get out and have fun.

"It'll be really fun," Isabelle pleaded persuasively. "We smuggle the _best _stuff in."

"Oh, fine," I relented. How bad could it be, after all? "I'll go."

Isabelle's smile glittered, like a gemstone. Or vodka. "Excellent. Meet me in room 807 at six. Oh, and pass the invitation along to that gorgeous brother of yours."

With that, Isabelle departed, leaving a swirl of perfume behind. The bell rang, and I realized I was officially late to my next class. . . on the first day of school.

_Congratulations, Clary. _

* * *

**Hi guys! This is my newest fanfic, City of the Fallen. Review, follow, favorite! Clockwork Academy, one of my other fanfics, has been updated. I'm working on Clockwork Enigma, and one called City of Bones (with reversed roles) may be uploaded soon as well. **


	2. Chapter 2: Party Like Magnus Bane

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything that looks familiar. **

**Chapter Two: Party Like Magnus Bane**

* * *

_Tear it down, _

_Break the barricades_

_I want to hear what sounds it makes! _

-Pierce the Veil, "A Match Into Water"

* * *

My day had started out bad. It got a little better with meeting Isabelle, but not really, and it only sunk to worse once I figured out that buses didn't run through Idris High School (probably because rich kids don't do anything as commonplace as ride on _buses,_ duh) and that Jonathan had zoomed off in his car before I had a chance to even fling the door open.

I was annoyed. No, I was more than annoyed—I was royally pissed. Jonathan was so dead when I got home. Who knows, I might just punch him _and _my oh-so considerate father, Valentine. Cue the barfing.

But it took me a good thirty minutes to realize Jonathan had left without me. I scoured the parking lot back and forth, as well as all the side alleys lining Idris and had nearly tripped on an empty bottle of booze (Jace's doing, most likely).

I swore violently once I figured out Jonathan was gone. That little arse. Oh boy, I bet he thought he was real clever like that, ditching me on the first day of school in the snotty arms of the Idris High School student body. . .

"Little Red swears?"There was a mocking gasp from behind me, and a giggle. _God damn it. _

"Shut up," I snapped before I realized who was talking. Jace and Isabelle stood behind me with their eyebrows raised. Jace had a smirk the size of his ego plastered all over his face, while Isabelle, looking much too pretty to have been in school, was languorously swinging a set of shiny silver car keys.

I sighed. "Hi, Isabelle. What do you want, Jace?"

Jace looked like he had a nice innuendo prepped and ready to go before Isabelle quickly cut him off.

"What're you so angry about, Clary?"

I rolled my eyes. "Has either of you met my lovely brother, Jonathan, yet?"

Isabelle grinned. "Ran into Hot Stuff in the hallway today. Why do you ask?"

"He drove off before I could jump in the car and slug him. Bloody unfair that he gets a car and doesn't let me drive." I chose to ignore the "Hot Stuff" part of Isabelle's comment.

Isabelle wrinkled her nose. "Ugh. My opinion of him has disintegrated slightly now."

"Mine too. Well, it's not like I had the greatest opinion about Jon, since he's always been a bit of an arse."

"But he's _hot,_" laughed Isabelle. "It's kinda odd how you two don't really look anything alike. What'd Mrs. Black have to say about that?"

Oh, God. "Is that the ugly, grumpy lady in the office?" Isabelle nodded. "Well, she was determined to believe we weren't siblings, and decided we were dating."

Jace smirked, sounding like he was about to cough a lung up. I'd almost forgotten he was there. . . Not that had been a bad thing. "You should've heard her when Isabelle, me, and Alec came to get out schedules a few years back. She actually thought we were a threesome or something."

I couldn't hide my smile at that. So Alec was the other famous Lightwood. "I'm beginning to think that everyone at this school is actually insane."

"Not too far off from the mark there," Isabelle remarked. "Anyways, Clary, do you want to ride with us? Since you don't have a ride or anything. You could just come straight to our house so you don't have to get Jonathan to chaperone you back over there in a few hours."

I deliberated on that. Would Valentine get that mad? Probably. But not if I called Jon first and told him to tell Valentine that I was at a friend's. . . After all, Valentine did say to make "proper" friends, and I was ninety-nine percent sure he considered the Lightwoods as "proper."

"Sure, thanks," I accepted, and Isabelle looked happy, which surprised me. From what I'd seen of her during the school day, she seemed pretty damn popular, and girls that looked like her typically tended to stray far away from people like me.

"Perfect!" Isabelle announced, delighted. Jace tried to snag the keys from her as we walked over to their car, and I noticed he didn't seem drunk at all, really. Odd.

"Jace, are you _sober?_" I asked him suspiciously as I slid in next to him while Isabelle went gracefully into the driver's seat, stroking the steering wheel.

"What a bright deduction you made, Red."

I rolled my eyes—for what felt like the five hundredth time that day. "But actually? How the hell do you get sober so fast? I mean, you were pretty hammered in Art."

Jace grinned. "You noticed me in Art, Red? I'm flattered. And I have my ways," he added mysteriously.

"You were practically hanging off poor Clary in Art, Jace," Isabelle spoke up from the front.

"Was I?" Jace seemed unfazed. "Well, maybe that'll help ward Kaelie off."

Hm. That was surprising. "Trouble in paradise, 'Jacey'?"

"It's not like they were really dating anyways," Isabelle muttered, turning sharply down a remote side street. Jace was thrown into me, and I yelped, shoving him off me. The phone that fell out of my sweatshirt pocket onto the car floor reminded me that I should probably call Jon before Valentine called the cops on his missing daughter.

"Oh, crap. I just remembered I should call my brother so my dad doesn't kill me," I explained, dialing Jon's number.

Sure enough, he picked up the phone immediately, sounding like he was irritated and exasperated at the same time. "Clary? What the hell? Where _are_ you?"

"Going to a friend's house. And let's not forget that _you_ were the one who ditched me in the parking lot, dumbass."

I heard Jace stifle a snicker and hissed for him to shut up.

"Well. . ." Jon sounded sheepish. "I thought you were in the car, and. . ."

"Oh, my God. Someone help me. How thick could you possibly _get_, Jon? No wait—you're lying. Who were you bringing home in my place?"

"Fine. I was lying. Sue me."

"Damn right I will, Jonathan," I snapped. "Why couldn't you have just told me like a normal person—'Oh, by the way, Clary, could you arrange alternate transportation today?' But no. So who was it?"

"A few friends."

"Whatever," I sighed. "You're getting it once I see you again. By the way, there's a party tonight in case you want to go. Magnus's room." I realized Jon probably had no idea who Magnus was or where his room was.

"A party? Sure, but who's Magnus?"

Yep. There we go. "One sec, Jon." I placed the phone speaker-side against my lap. "Hey, Isabelle? You know that brother of mine you think is hot? Well, he agreed to go to the party, but what room is Magnus in?"

Isabelle looked delighted. "His room is 811."

"Thanks." I picked the phone back up again. "Jon, Magnus's room is 811. And I have another favor for you."

"Seriously, Clary?" I heard him groan.

"Seriously, Jonathan?" I mimicked. "You owe me, 'cause you left me, your poor, dispirited sister in the goddamn _parking lot _on the_ first day of school _by _herself_."

"Fine. What is it?"

"Can you cover for me with Valentine? You know how he gets. If I'm lucky, you can still rip the phone away from him and cancel his 911 call. And don't tell him _anything _about the bloody party tonight, or else we're probably grounded for a century."

"He's not even going to be here for most of the evening. He and Mom found a fancy restaurant in the middle of nowhere and are going out to that."

"Just do it, okay?"

"_Fine, _Clarissa. Now you owe me one."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "I might even like you now, Jon."

"Really feeling the love, Clary. See you later, little sis."

I grinned in triumph, said goodbye to Jonathan, and hung up. Genius. I had convinced Jon to go to the party (thus having satisfied Isabelle) _and _warded off Valentine all in one go. Victory!

Isabelle sighed in the front seat. "His _voice _even sounds hot."

I shook my head, but was laughing all the same.

Jace smirked. "Going to start stalking his Facebook next, Iz?"

She threw him a grin. "Thanks for the idea, Jace. And. . . . here we are."

I think my jaw would've fallen on the car's carpet if I hadn't managed to hold it in. For one thing, Isabelle's and Jace's house was so huge it couldn't even be classified as a house, but more of a mansion—the kind that only billionaire celebrities had the money to buy. The outside was all windows, gray stones, and fancy paint colors with a stretching, ionic pillared porch and driveway stopped off by what looked like the elaborate gates to a castle. Isabelle clicked a button on her keychain at the gates, and they very slowly creaked open. As soon as the car was through, they slowly closed again.

No wonder Valentine wanted to talk to the Lightwoods. . . They were obviously rich as frick.

Isabelle was pressing yet another button on that multitasking keychain of hers, and the enormous garage of the mansion was opening, revealing several glossy sport cars. Damn.

She carefully parked hers next to a black one with tinted windows, and hopped out of her car, patting its hood lovingly. I gently eased my door open, worried that I'd scratch either hers or the expensive car next to it.

By the time I had gotten myself out without inflicting damage upon anything, Jace had already vanished into the house, and Isabelle was busy putting her sky-high shoes on a shoe rack. I stuck my holey Converse next to hers, and we went into her house.

* * *

"I'm _not _wearing that!" I exclaimed defiantly. Just a few hours earlier, Isabelle had dragged me away from the nice conversation I had been having with her little brother, Max, about manga with excuses that we needed to start getting ready for the party. Bull. It was just a party, not prom (which I wouldn't be going to, anyways).

Like pretty much every single room in the house, Isabelle's room was huge and airy. Except while most of the rooms were painted in pale colors or had wood or stone paneling, Isabelle's looked like she'd dumped a bucket of glitter over her black-and-gold swirly walls. There were clothes everywhere—strewn all over the bed, floor, and the dresser. I had the awkwardly leap over various piles of nondescript possessions. Vaguely, I wondered how on Earth Isabelle was able to even _walk _let alone stride gracefully like a supermodel in her room. When Isabelle threw open the closet to rifle through the clothes in there, she'd chucked a pair of short-short-shorts at me with a very slinky-looking green spaghetti-strap shirt. Which were the exact clothing items I had trudged off to her bathroom to put on and were now horrified to the tenth degree about. Normally, we'd be in her room at Idris, but Isabelle had wanted to go back to the mansion, claiming that "all the best" clothes were buried in her closet.

Isabelle emerged out of the bathroom, looking absolutely gorgeous in a tight silver skirt and curve-hugging matching shirt. Glimmering silver beads were caught in her hair, and she was wearing another yet another pair of strappy stilettos. She gave me a nod of approval. "You're definitely wearing that, Clary. Except for one thing. . ." She pointed to her vanity, which was covered in the paraphernalia of a beauty salon. Ugh.

Against my wishes, I grouchily plopped into the chair, feeling Isabelle undo my carefully constructed ponytail. The first thing she did was brush it out, and then I felt her delicately twisting it up. I looked in the mirror after she finished brushing mascara on my eyelashes and lining my eyes with eyeliner. I shuddered. Makeup. Just yuck.

But the shocking thing was that I actually looked, well, _good._ My silly hair was up and out of commission, so that was nice. My lashes look long and flirty, and my cheekbones visible for once. What _had _Isabelle done to me? Suddenly, I felt unexpectedly grateful for Isabelle making me wear those clothes.

"Thanks so much, Isabelle," I exclaimed happily. Isabelle waved a playful hand at me.

"You're welcome, Clary. Now put on these heels."

"Yes, ma'am." I slid on the heels, which were just as strappy as Isabelle's. With the combination of the shorts and the shoes, I actually looked taller than my five-foot-nothing. The green of the shirt even brought out the dull green of my eyes. Isabelle had to be some kind of Einstein in the beauty world.

Isabelle looked at me, satisfied like a cat. "Perfect. Now let's go! I want to accidentally-on-purpose run into that brother of yours before I get totally wasted."

"I'll introduce you," I offered, feeling generous as we carefully made our way down the staircase. I had the banister in a death grip—no way in hell was I making a spectacle of myself by hurtling past Isabelle on the stairs.

If we hadn't been walking down the staircase and if she hadn't been in stilettos, I was certain Isabelle would've done a victory dance and punched the air like a sports player. "You would, Clary? Oh, you're amazing!"

Isabelle looked about ready to dance, and I couldn't help but laugh at how eager she was to meet Jonathan. "Be prepared. I think you're going to have a fair bit of competition." I remembered the blonde vultures that had circled around Jon that morning.

"I can handle them," Isabelle said dismissively.

"Who's going to be at the party?" I asked her curiously, directing the conversation away from Jonathan.

"Well," Isabelle replied thoughtfully as we made our way down yet _another _damn staircase, "there's me, obviously, Alec—he's my brother—, Jace—"

"Jace?" I interrupted involuntarily, and cursed myself immediately. Jesus! I didn't mean for that to come out, it just. . . popped out. Word vomit, remember?

Isabelle gave me a strange look. "Yeah, didn't he tell you he was going?"

I thought back to art class. "Oh. He did. I guess I just forgot, or something. Go on."

"There's also the Herondales—Will, Ella, and Cecily. Ella's the eldest, Cecily the youngest, and Will the one everyone is always swooning over. You'll know who they are because literally all of them have blue eyes and black hair. Will's Jace's cousin. Gabriel and Gideon Lightwood, who are my cousins, and have sandy hair and green eyes, Jessamine Lovelace—the blonde with the curls, Camille Belcourt, who is always snapping something at Jessamine, Kaelie Fey, Tessa Gray, who is dark-haired and has gray-blue eyes, Jem Carstairs, who is all silver, Sebastian Verlac, white-blonde haired and black-eyed, Magnus Bane, since he's the one throwing it and who explodes glitter grenades on himself, Aline Penhallow, short dark hair, Sophie Collins—hazel eyed and dark-haired, and Helen Blackthorn—blonde, with a mystical look about her." Isabelle quickly rattled off an enormous list of people. My head spun. How did anyone remember all these people?

"I have another question." My foot slipped on a stair. Dammit.

"Fire away, Clary."

"What do those markings you have mean? I've seen them a lot during the day." I remembered seeing the same black matrixes all over hands, arms, collarbones, and pretty much anywhere anyone had spare areas of skin.

"They're just tattoos." Isabelle's voice sounded guarded, and when I looked at her, she was pointedly staring downstairs. I decided to drop the subject.

I jumped off the last stair, thank God. Stairs plus high heels equals torture—an equation even the dimmest of minds should be able to process.

"Jace, where the hell are you?" Isabelle yelled as we headed towards the garage. Jace popped up from behind a corner, scaring the crap out of me.

"Finally," Isabelle grumbled. "Took you long enough."

"I do have an appearance to uphold, Iz." Jace's eyes were unusually bright. Whatever. He was probably already high or something.

"Do you have. . . it?"

"Right here." Bottles clinked in the backpack Jace shook slightly as we went back into Isabelle's fancy sports car.

Jace turned to me once we were out of the garage. "Looking good, Red." His eyes drifted lazily over me, and I fought the urge to shiver. It was ridiculous, really.

"You're not looking too bad yourself." I returned his smirk, and leaned forwards in Isabelle's direction. "Is Alec already there?"

"I think. . ." Isabelle tapped the steering wheel. "I think he's already at Magnus's room, since Magnus is his boyfriend. I bet they'll be coming out of Magnus's bathroom a little late."

"I'm not so sure about a _little,_" Jace joked. He was too close for my liking, and in the dark I couldn't see the exact spot of where he sat, which bothered me, for some reason.

"Let me remind you of the last party, Jace," Isabelle started, speeding through a red light. "You and Kaelie got high _before _the party actually started, then waltzed into Gabriel's room and started sucking each other's faces off."

"You're one to talk, Izzy. Swooning over Clary's poor brother, Jonathan, all day."

Isabelle sniffed. "_He's _hot. Kaelie is a dirtbag."

I could tell there was a much worse word she wanted to use. Isabelle pulled up at Idris, in the back lot by the dorms, and practically skipped out of the car. Jesus.

I shut the door with a bang and was about to go and follow Isabelle when Jace stopped me.

"Wait for a sec, Red."

I exhaled a sigh. Would that nickname ever stop? Actually, I knew the answer to that—no, it wouldn't. Boys like Jace thought they were something cool by calling other obnoxious nicknames, which, in reality, were just plain annoying, especially that it had to do with the fact of my hair, which led to ginger jokes, and—

"Red, did you hear anything I was saying?"

"Sorry, what?" I shook myself out of my thoughts.

"Dreaming about me, were you?"

Oh, my God. But all the same, I felt myself blush, glad that it was dark enough that he couldn't see my face as clearly as he might it the daytime. "No! I was just. . . thinking." In truth, I had technically been thinking about Jace, but not it the way he probably imagined.

"Mmm-hmm." I could nearly hear Jace's smirk. "Aside from that, I was asking you something."

"Okay, what?" I mumbled as we walked along the path to the dorm Magnus's room was in, my shoes clicking awkwardly along the pavement.

"Does Isabelle actually have a thing for Jonathan or is she just faking it?" Underneath the careful shaded colors of Jace's voice, there was a burning curiosity.

I couldn't help myself—I laughed. "_That's _what you're so curious about?"

For once, Jace sounded slightly flustered. "I don't want her to get hurt."

"Jace, think about it. I doubt Isabelle's going to get hurt—I'm guessing it's going to be the other way around."

"Maybe you're right," Jace mused, then grinned. We were in the hallway of the dorm, and one door was cracked open, spilling a mixture of light, music, and the smell of alcohol. I had never really drunk any—unless you count that one time Simon and I stole some out of his mom's cabinet and got all silly.

Just as I had the door to Magnus's room open, I heard Jace's voice again. "Turn around, Clary."

I knew it was dumb of me, but I did it anyways. Jace reached up and undid the clip Isabelle had put in that secured its tenuous hold on my hair, and the familiar heavy feeling of my red curls landed on my shoulders.

I'm not sure why I said it, but it just came out anyways—word vomit, and I really have to stop with that excuse. Honestly. "Is that better?"

A ghost of a smile—a real one, not his usual arrogant smirk—played around his mouth as he handed my (or Isabelle's) hairclip back to me. "It's better."

I smiled at him, and stepped into Magnus's room.

I immediately assaulted by the pounding beat of the music that pulsed through the room. Ow. Eardrum damage, pronto. But even though it was dim, I noticed a few things. For one, the room seemed one hell of a lot bigger than I thought it'd be. Let me give you an approximation of this: It was large enough for a mosh pit _and _a DJing booth _and _there was an upper level where all the drinks were. Weird. Were Jace and Isabelle messing with me? Because this sure didn't look like a dorm room. I figured I'd just ask them after the party.

Two, it looked like we were the last ones there. And just like Isabelle had said, I was able to pick out individual people due to her vivid descriptions of them. I spotted the Herondale siblings quickly, and they were just as lovely as my worst nightmare—like everyone else there. They all had the strange yet beautiful blue-violet eye color and jet black hair. The one I thought was Cecily Herondale was sitting with one of the Lightwood brothers, and the other brother was occupied with a pretty girl with hazel eyes. I also noticed Jem Carstairs and Tessa Gray, who were also in my Art class. There were a few people I still wasn't able to pick out—Camille Belcourt and Jessamine Lovelace. I still kept confusing them! Even Kaelie was there, and she was standing right by Jonathan.

Wait. Jonathan. So the cocky bastard had decided to show after all. . . He was _so_ dead.

A diabolical grin split my face. Oh, Jon had _no _idea what was coming.

Ignoring the pounding music, I stomped—well, I would like to think I was every bit as graceful as Isabelle, but that was a reality that wasn't happening anytime soon—over to Jon's side. He was already surrounded by fangirls squeaking and squealing and fawning and swooning.

Let me rethink my previous theory: popular girls aren't just rabid dogs, they also resemble mice and fainting goats, because they're squeaking and squealing with excitement like mice and swooning (you know, like those goats that drop dead when they get too excited or happy or scared or whatever?). It was probably the stupidest idea that I'd thought of, but it was entertaining. Try this: the next time you see a popular bitch, imagine her as a fainting goat in an impromptu fainting goat mob. Works like a charm.

I realized I'd been standing like an idiot on the outside of the little fangirl circle for about two minutes now while grinning creepily to myself like I was planning a murder. . . really? My whole life was practically one big embarrassing moment—you know, that awkward moment between your birth and your death? Yup, that was my life.

I shoved past Jessamine, who I'd internalized as the curly-haired one, who looked stunned. Camille stumbled in her heels, her champagne flute spilling a little as I pushed her to the right, and soon it was just Kaelie left, who was handing a glass of something to Jon. Easy. I tapped her on the shoulder, and she spun around, eyes wide. They narrowed once they saw me.

"Excuse me, but who are you again?" Kaelie asked in an unfriendly way. Jonathan was staring at me with something abject to horror.

"Sorry?" I pretended like I didn't hear her, which was a perfectly plausible excuse, considering whoever was the DJ had just amped up the Bassnectar song. "I didn't catch that."

I then jumped over to Jonathan and threw my arms around his waist with an angelically devilish smirk on my face. _Oh, revenge is pretty damn sweet. _"Hi, Jon!" I squealed just like one of his fangirls.

Kaelie looked at us with disgust, then put back on her happy face and whined, "Jon, why didn't you say you had a girlfriend?"

"Clarissa, get _off _me," hissed Jon. Nice try, dude. He looked helplessly at Kaelie. "Sorry, Kaelie, I don't have a girlfriend. This is my. . . sister."

"Interesting." Kaelie walked off, visibly pissed, which amused me to no end.

Jon's shoulders slumped, and for one heartbeat, I felt a pang of guiltiness.

"Sorry, Jon, I'm sure you can win her back someday. . . if she ever talks to you again." I detached myself from him and peered at the contents of his glass. "What'd she give you? Is it good?"

"Well, Clarissa," he got out from between his teeth, "I haven't tried it yet."

"Didn't Kaelie ever tell you she already has a boyfriend?" Okay, so Jace and Kaelie weren't really _dating_ dating, but close enough. Jon deserved someone better than Kaelie. . . like Isabelle!

Jon choked on his drink. "_What?!_ Who is it?"

"Jace."

Jonathan sighed, annoyed. "Whatever. Am I the only one you know here or something?"

Perfect timing, Jon. I scanned the room for Isabelle, and saw her slim figure in no time at all. She was talking to two guys: one had a neon green shirt, traffic-guard orange boots, no pants, and glittery makeup smeared all over his eyes, making him look a rather sparkly raccoon. From the amount of glitter on him and Isabelle's "glitter grenade" comment, I'd guess it was Magnus Bane, Alec's boyfriend. The other was Will Herondale.

"No, Jon, you're not. I just met Isabelle Lightwood before this. Here, let me introduce you." And suddenly I was dragging him back through Camille and Jessamine and over to Isabelle, who looked thrilled.

"Isabelle," I released Jon's arm, "have you met my brother, Jonathan, yet?"

I could nearly picture her insides jumping up and down in joy. "No."

"Excellent." I glanced quickly over at Jon, who looked almost captivated by Isabelle's beauty. "Jon, this is my friend Isabelle."

"I don't think we've met before," Jon said at last. "I probably would've remembered."

At hearing this, I couldn't decide between three things of what to do: face palm, laugh, or get second-hand embarrassment from the whole thing. Jesus, didn't Jon know how to. . . I don't know, flirt better or something? I guess not.

"What's your name?" It took me a minute before I realized Will Herondale was talking to me.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I'm Clary."

"What a pretty name." Will grinned, and I had to admit: he seemed almost too hot to be a real person.

"Thanks. You're Will, right?"

"Been stalking me?" And that was the exact moment I realized how similar Jace and Will were. Uh-oh.

I rolled my eyes, and remarked sarcastically, "You've caught me."

Will laughed, and grabbed a bottle off a table. "You had anything to drink yet?"

I felt kind of nervous. I knew there'd probably be whatever the people here could get in, but I'd never meant to have any. At least, that's what I thought until my stupid mouth went, "No. What kind is that?"

Will waved the bottle and smirked. "The expensive kind, Clary. Want some?"

And because I'm a complete fool, I dug myself into an even deeper hole by going, "Why not?"

And if things couldn't get any worse, I realized I'd just completed that sentence with a flirty smirk. Dammit, dammit, dammit! This evening wasn't going well at all. But all the same, I found myself accepting the bottle from Will and downing a sip or two. I tried not to cough as it burned its way down my throat. But was that _pain,_ or was it _satisfaction?_

"First time?" Will asked, stealing the alcohol back from me.

I thought back to the liquor in Simon's mom's cabinet. "Not really."

"Pretty impressive." Will took another swig and passed it onto a boy with black eyes.

And that was how the evening continued. More and more alcohol came my way, and I couldn't stop myself from having some from each bottle. The more I drank, the blurrier everything got, and the more I found myself on the dance floor. The infectious music, the booze, and the people there all combined for one hell of a night. I wasn't so far gone, though, that when the drugs came out I did some of those. Another thing my fuzzy mind took in was that everyone didn't seem to party as hard as the rest did: for example, Jem and Tessa usually stayed away from it all. But there were people like Will, Sebastian, Jace, and Isabelle that threw themselves into it all full swing—like it was everything or it was nothing.

And that was how the night ended for me. I'd actually gotten drunk enough that my mouth had opened up and I'd started saying the stupidest things. I don't remember exactly _what _they were, but I remember standing next to Jonathan, and a swift wave of drowsiness overtook me as I thought, _What would Simon think if he saw me now? _

* * *

**A big shout-out and virtual cookie to everyone who's reviewed, followed, favorited, or just read City of the Fallen! You guys are amazing! But seriously. . . I'm surprised this has garnered a positive response (so far, at least). And about the rabid dog/fainting goat part. . . don't even ask. It was written kinda late, and the logical part of my brain starts slipping away when it's late. But I really wanted to get this chapter up! So there you go. Chapter two up and running. **

**AnnaW14: Thank you for the review! I'm glad you're interested in this fanfic :) Clary is going to start out kinda innocent, but her nature will be constantly changing and evolving throughout the whole book. Like, she's going to have some ups and downs, but she's definitely not going to stay as innocent as she was. **

**Toasty: Thanks so much! Well here's the update, so wish granted XD. Thanks for the review(s)!**

**QueenOfHearts2721: Thank you and thanks for the review! The update is up, so yay! I'm hoping to be able to work on this during the week so I can get Chapter Three up soon. :)**

**Guest: Thank you for the review :) And I don't want Clary to become an addict of drugs or alcohol, so don't worry. Yeah, I know how you feel! I don't exactly hate it when Clace is rushed, but it irritates me, so Clace is going to go slowly in this fanfic for sure. :)**

**Guest: Thank you! I'm glad you think so :) Thanks for reviewing! **


	3. Chapter 3: Zombie Ducks

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own TMI or TID. I just put the characters in odd situations. **

**Chapter Three: Zombie Ducks**

* * *

_The sweetest smiles hold the darkest secrets._

-Sara Shepard

* * *

I woke up with a pounding headache at oh-dark-thirty in the morning and a very fuzzy memory of the previous night. What _had_ I done, exactly?

This thought made me panic. I sat up in one head-smashing move on the headboard of my bed with a yelped curse, spitting red hair out of my mouth. It was only Tuesday. . . and so far I'd already met several hot guys, made one possible friend, gone to a party, and spent a day in my hellish new school. That had to be some kind of record (for me, at least).

A quick knock sounded on my _thankfully_ shut door. Oh, no. It was probably Valentine. . . I could just imagine him now, _Clarissa Adele Morgenstern! I DEMAND an explanation! _

Filled with dread, I slowly shuffled over to my door, the post-alcohol migraine unforgotten.

"Clarissa!" snapped a very familiar voice. Jonathan. "If you don't come out this minute, that Netflix account with all of your precious BBC episodes on it are disappearing in twenty-four hours. . . !"

"_What?_ No!" I scrambled over to the door, throwing it open. "Leave Netflix _alone!_"

Jonathan stood on the threshold of my room with mussed hair and lipstick on his shirt. Yeah, you might want to change that before Valentine and Jocelyn wake up. . .

Which reminded me of something. . . "So, how was the party last night, Jon?"

He fixed me with a look. Damn. He was pissed. "_How _much did you drink last night?"

I shrugged. "I don't know." Hazy memories of glittering alcohol bottles and bags of things swam through my head. Needles. Isabelle twirling a cigarette. Will, his blue eyes like the sky. Magnus Bane, lobbing glitter at Camille Belcourt. Jessamine Lovelace vanishing with some guy. And lastly, right before I went into Will's room, Jace pulling my hair out of the clip. _It's better. _Oh God. I felt a blush heating my face before I even knew it was happening.

Jonathan groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "You're such a lightweight, Clary. Do you know what happened last night?"

"No, what?"

"After you set me up with Isabelle and started drinking like mad, you passed out. I freaked out—I thought you had alcohol poisoning, or something—"

I interrupted Jonathan. "Awww. My insufferable brother, _the _Jonathan Morgenstern, actually cares about me." I made a face at him.

"Shut up, Clary." Jon glared at me. "Anyways, I asked Will if you'd done anything, and he said no, although it was obvious the greater part of the drugs were being passed through your area."

"I don't remember any of that," I muttered. It was true—I didn't. The most I saw of the so-called drugs was Sebastian Verlac swallowing a white tablet, Isabelle smoking a cigarette, and all the alcohol everywhere.

"Maybe," Jon put in, his tone biting, "if you'd stayed _sober, _you would've seen all of it."

"What did they have?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"A lot. Heroin, cocaine, ecstasy, Molly, angel dust. . . The list goes on. Not everyone did them, and not everyone did anything, but. . ." Jonathan trailed off.

"But what did I do?" I pressed.

"You passed out, spilled booze all over yourself" –that explained my damp shirt—"and I had to get Will to drag to into my car with me."

I wanted to smack myself. Great. So not only was I officially known as a lightweight, I had also singlehandedly managed to humiliate myself in front of half the student body.

Then it hit me, and I punched Jonathan. "_Jon! _You're an _idiot!_"

"Ow," he complained, rubbing his arm. "What now?"

"You were _intoxicated_ and you were _driving!_" I hissed. "You could've killed us both!"

"Calm down, Clarissa," Jon said coolly. "I didn't drink. At all."

"But, you—" I was flabbergasted. Kaelie had given Jon something. Hadn't he drank it? I couldn't decided what was real. Had I gotten so hammered that I'd started hallucinating? Or had I gotten so drunk that I'd done the drugs regardless of what Jon had said? _Or _was Jon just messing with me? "Kaelie—I saw her! Why didn't you drink it?"

"I dunno." Jon moved one shoulder in a half-shrug, and I couldn't decide if he was lying or not. Whatever. I'd figure it out later.

"Where the hell is Valentine?"

"Downstairs, sipping his damn fancy coffee with two creamers and a tablespoon of sugar. But if it's black, then he's in one of his moods."

"Great." I starting to seriously regret that bloody party. . . Not to mention I was still wearing Isabelle's clothes _and _had probably ruined her shirt. Oh, for God's sake. . . "How many minutes until we have to leave for school? And do you have an Aspirin? This bloody headache feels like. . ." I paused, trying to find the perfect simile to describe my early-morning pain. I was going through my mind, when suddenly my newest theory about fainting goats and rabid dogs and popular girls sprang up in my head. ". . . fainting goat," I blurted.

Jonathan was looking at me very strangely. You'd think I'd turned into Harry Potter and cast a Bat-Bogey Hex at him. . . which would actually come in handy with Jonathan. Especially if I could get Ginny Weasley to teach me. . . But that wasn't the point. "Are you sure you shouldn't stay home today, Clarissa?"

I sighed. "It's a long story. And many years of observing the airheads in action."

"Whatever you say, Clary." As he strode back down the hall, I heard him muttering something like, "Fainting _goat?_" Ahhhh-hahaha. It had caught on.

The minute I stepped into the kitchen, Valentine's head shot up. That was not a good omen. To make matters worse, he even set down his coffee _and _his newspaper _and _ended his conversation with Jocelyn. _Damn. _

"Good morning, Clarissa."

"Good morning, Father," I muttered, trying to make it _not_ sound like I was imitating him for a kick.

"Ah. Jonathan." Jonathan had appeared soundlessly behind me as usual. "My children are together at last."

"Dad," Jon muttered, "we all live in the same house." _That is until Jon and I move into the dorm rooms we didn't even know existed!_

"And, _that,_" Valentine said, punctuating "that" with a swing of his coffee cup like he was a really screwy conductor of the orchestra of Valentine robots, "is exactly what I have wanted to discuss with you about."

Jon and I exchanged a look. Oh, boy. Here it came.

"Idris High School is not only just a high school, but a high-class boarding school as well. That is why I have registered rooms for both you and Jonathan!" Valentine's voice was dripping with forced cheerfulness.

"Well, that's just—" Jon cut me off before I could finish my sentence and shot me a look that said _Shut up. _

"Father, that's great news!" Jon lied.

To anyone else, it looked like Jon was genuinely happy about moving into Idris. But to me, I could see the carefully concealed anger and annoyance his dark eyes.

"Really?" Valentine sounded stunned.

"Yeah! Clary and I are. . . amazed. Delighted." Jon's lie fell a little flat, and I could see Valentine sensing this, narrowing in on the kill like he was some kind of Amazonian predator and not an overly strict dad.

At this moment, at which I had started crossing my fingers behind my back, and Jon was nervously shifting from foot to foot, Jocelyn swept into the room.

"Hello, dear. Let's not hold the children up any longer, or they'll be late to school."

Valentine relaxed, Jonathan-fabricated lie and all forgotten. He smiled at Jocelyn like a normal person, and picked the paper and coffee back up. Mission = completed. As soon as Jon and I began to hastily scramble for the garage door, I could've sworn Jocelyn winked at us before the door shut.

As Jon pulled out of the garage, I let out a breath. "Close call there, Jon."

"Yeah, I noticed. You're welcome, Clary."

"Oh. Right. Thanks for. . . lying?"

"Did you have to end that in a question mark?" Jon sighed, rounding into the school parking lot. I really, really didn't want to go to school today, especially since my newly established reputation at that goddamn party. . . "I can't believe we're actually going to be. . . living here."

I shuddered. "Me neither, Jon. Me neither. How are the rooms arranged here? D'you think we'll have roommates?"

I'd be fine with having a roommate if it was Isabelle or something, but Jessamine or Kaelie or Camille. . . Just no. And if the rooms were co-ed. . . I would die.

I surveyed the campus while Jon parked the car. Everyone already seemed to be out of the dorms and onto the lawn-courtyard. There was Camille, Kaelie, and Jessamine, circled into a giggling trio (whose noise only increased once Jonathan set a foot out of the car), Jace and Will, who were half-flirting with the three blondes, the two Herondale sisters—Cecily and Ella, I think—and they were doing homework, and a whole crowd of other students that were too far away from me to see.

"Clarissa, are you getting out of the car or not?" Jonathan sounded annoyed. I got out of the car and shut the door, then stood awkwardly next to the car. But, hey—awkward is my middle name. I then started to follow Jon onto the campus. Naturally, he was flocked by the three blonde bimbos as soon as his holier-than-thou foot touched a blade of grass. Oh, joy. Well, there was no way in heaven (or hell) that I was sticking around to watch Jon "flirt" and the girls to swoon over him. Ew times infinity. At least I hadn't walked in on him and one of them making out yet. _Yet. _

"Hey, Clary!" I heard from behind me. Isabelle. And the minute I turned around with a grin on my face, I realized Jace was with her and now it looked like I was creepily smiling at him. Jesus.

"Hi, Izzy!" I called, heading towards them. One minute, I was walking confidently towards a friend, the next minute I found my butt soaking up water from the grass. I could see Jonathan face-palming in my peripheral vision as I felt a blush spread over my face. It was then that I also realized that Alec Lightwood, Isabelle's brother, was standing next to her. Dammit.

"Oh, no!" squeaked Isabelle with actual concern, running in my direction (or at least as fast as her four-inch heels allowed). Jace got to me first, however, and held out a hand, to which I used to pull myself up. I brushed bracken and grass off my butt, which is always extremely awkward in public because it can either look like you're just getting a piece of grass off or feeling your own butt.

Jace had his signature smirk loaded like a gun. He let go of my hand, and said, "I think you just _fell _for me."

Alec, and about half of the people who were listening in or had witnessed me making a spectacle of myself, exploded with laughter. Isabelle looked like she was biting her lip to keep the giggles in; Jace was smirking, and somehow Will had gotten into the picture and was slapping Jace on the back.

Oh, my God. I finished brushing off my butt (and I was ninety-nine percent sure my pants now looked like I had just peed them), glared at Jace, and snapped acidly, "Shut the hell up, Jace."

I know, I know, I really need better comebacks. But _what,_ exactly, are you supposed to say after you've embarrassed yourself in front of the entire student body, had to look like you were itching your butt in front of them, and then a hot guy comes up to you with a stupid pickup line?! Add the fact that your brother saw the whole thing and you've might just go and die in a hole.

Eventually, the hilarity of the situation (to people other than me) subsided. Thank the Lord. Isabelle allowed herself one small laugh, which sounded like a torrent of giggles was about to come pouring out of her mouth after that one, and asked, "Really, though, Clary, are you okay after. . . that?"

Jace smirked again. "I bet Red is just—"

Isabelle slapped a hand over his mouth. "Clary couldn't have been more right—shut up, Jace."

"I'm fine, Isabelle. Really," I said convincingly. "I've had worse embarrassing moments."

"Do tell, Red," Jace remarked, throwing off Isabelle's hand as the bell rang.

"Only if you quit calling me Red. I'll have to start calling you Yellow now, Yellow."

"You wouldn't!" Jace mock-gasped.

"I just did, _Yellow._"

"That hurts, Red. Right here." Jace patted his heart.

"I'll make it hurt in a lot of other places if you don't stop with the Red, Yellow."

"Ooh. Scary," Jace laughed sarcastically.

"Damn right," I retaliated, turning swiftly into my English class. A "bye, Red!" came from outside the door. Damn him.

I took a quick inventory of the class. In the front row was a curvy girl with her curly hair done into tight braids with an olive-skinned boy next to her. From their body language, it was obvious they were dating. There was also Aline Penhallow and Helen Blackthorn in the row behind them, then Jem Carstairs and Tessa Gray. Jem was showing Tessa what looked like sheet music. Will Herondale, Cecily Herondale, Sebastian Verlac, and Sophie Collins were all in the back rows. Will made eye contact with me and patted the empty seat between him and Verlac, who looked remotely uninterested in everything. As I walked past Jem and Tessa to the back row, I heard Jem murmuring about rosin and the music room to Tessa, who was tracing notes on the sheet music.

"Hello, Red," laughed Will, and I groaned.

"Not you, too," I sighed, plunking down next to him. If I'd known how insanely fast that bloody nickname would've caught on, I would've bound Jace's mouth with duct tape to keep him from saying it.

"I've been hearing it everywhere."

"Only 'cause Jace is your cousin," I grumbled. "Do me a favor and call him Yellow when you see him again, 'kay?"

"Anything for the new girl," said Will with a wink.

"Perfect. Thanks, Will!"

"So I hear you and Jon are finally moving into the dorms today," Will half-asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Yep. The bloody dorms." At Will's puzzled look, I elaborated. "See, Jon and I don't want to move into them, but my dad is making us. I think he just wants out of the house early so he and my mom can go to all of their fancy little dinners with business associates."

"Hey, the dorms aren't so bad," Will reassured me with a smirk. "You get access to the best parties and all that. Not to mention you'll get to see us every day."

"I think once is enough for me," I teased. "Thanks for the offer, though."

"How you wound me, Clary," Will announced melodramatically.

I rolled my eyes. Funny. The Herondale brothers, in particular, seemed to provoke _that _response. "Just wait, Will."

"For tonight?"

"Oh, for God's sake, get your mind out of the gutter!" I couldn't help the grin that pulled at my mouth, though.

Will winked. "Whatever you say, Clary."

The innuendoes didn't stop throughout all of English, though. It was getting more and more difficult by the end of class—Will kept throwing notes my way with various jokes on them. Even though I'd replied with one to something like, _What are we, in second grade again? _. The whole thing had me torn between laughing hysterically and throwing the notes he tossed at me violently back in his face.

"What's so funny?" whispered Sebastian Verlac ten minutes before the bell rang. I'd been holding my laughter in by profusely staring at the clock, watching the second hand move what felt like a millimeter.

"Nothing," I replied quietly, trying to not let the English teacher, Mr. Hodge, hear what I was saying.

Sebastian gave me a dubious look, and then another at the notes I had my arm over. And to make matters just peachy, another piece of paper landed on my desk. Holy hell. Did Will ever give up. . . on _anything? _

Apparently not. Will mouthed at me, _Read it. _

I raised an eyebrow. Knowing Will, it was probably the most inappropriate one yet. I poked him and shook my head, as in, _Not even going there. _

Sebastian snatched the note off my desk before I could stop him. I watched in half-horror, missing the glare Will sent his way. Sebastian's eyebrows rose up his forehead, and it looked like he was swallowing a laugh. Shaking his head, he passed me back the note, whispering, "Good luck, Clary."

Great. Now I _had _to read it.

What I found on the note wasn't actually an innuendo. Surprise, surprise. Instead, it was a picture of a dead duck with x's for eyes. And guess who was standing over it? Will. I was somewhere in the background of that drawing, pointing at an approaching horde of zombie-ducks. _What. . . _

I couldn't help myself, I laughed, earning myself a reprimanding look from Mr. Hodge. I wrote, _What are you, psychotic? _on the note and shoved it Will's way.

Two seconds later, the blasted note, dead duck and all, was back. _Possibly, just don't like ducks, _was scrawled on the duck's head.

Don't like_ is a bit of an understatement, duck-killer, _I wrote back. The next message from Will was, _Never fear, Clary Morgenstern, I will always protect you from ducks! _

Oh, my God. I couldn't wait for class to be out so I could go and laugh.

"What?" Sebastian asked insistently as Hodge announced that we could go ahead and pack up. I pointed at Will between fits of giggles. "Herondale? What'd he do?"

"You read the damn note, Sebastian," I got out, choking a little.

Will puffed out his chest. "I stand by my promises, Clarissa."

"Just wait until a gaggle of those zombie-ducks comes stumbling along. Then you'll be pleading for me to save you." I grinned at the thought of a terrified Will. Ducks. I couldn't believe he had a _duck _phobia.

Will pretended to be offended as the bell rang. "That wouldn't be very gentlemanly, now would it?"

"They do say that chivalry is dead."

"Not for me!"

"You're all right, I guess," I teased. Though, secretly, Will was definitely more than all right.

"Was that Jace at the beginning of class?" Will asked, sounding curious.

"Yeah," I answered, trying for _indifferent. _"Why?"

"Just wondering. D'you think he's seen Kaelie anywhere yet?"

"I don't know," I said truthfully as we walked down the hallway. "Aren't they dating, or supposed to be, or whatever it is?"

"Not really dating." Will waved at Jessamine, who blushed. "They use each other, basically."

So just like what I'd thought on the first day of school. "Really? They do?"

"Is that surprising to you?" There was definitely a suggestive tone in Will's voice, and I hit his arm.

"Maybe it is," I smirked back at him, watching him continue down the hall as I yanked my inept locker open.

* * *

After school ended, Jonathan drove his car back around to the student parking lot where the dorm-livers parked their cars. I waited for him on the pavement, tapping my foot to my nonexistent music. Ha.

"Need a ride, Red?" came a voice from behind me. I whirled around to see Jace standing behind me, his backpack falling off one shoulder.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Jace. Waiting for Jon to finish parking his bloody car already."

"So what did Will draw today?" Jace inquired, changing the subject.

Damn. I was sorta-kinda-actually wanting to avoid discussing that. "It was nothing. A few. . . ducks. Zombie ducks."

"Aha." Jace laughed, his golden eyes lighting up like honey, or liquid sunlight, or. . . _Stop it, Clary! _"So _that's_ what he was talking about."

My foot froze. "Talking. . . about _what_?"

"Weren't you there during lunch?"

"No, Jace. I was busy helping my asshole brother with his History homework. Just the way I wanted to spend lunch."

"Oh. Sorry about that." Jace did actually sound genuinely sorry. . . But probably not.

"Well, what did Will say?"

"He, um, kept going on about he was going to protect you from the zombie-ducks."

"Ugh!" I stamped my foot, and was even more annoyed with myself. I hated the girls that stamped their feet. "Will is _always_ screwing me!"

Jace choked. "He's _what?!_"

I realized my mistake a second too late, and could already feel the heat spreading over my face like the Red Cloud of Doom. "Dammit, I meant he's always screwing _with _me!"

Jace laughed loudly, relaxing. "For a second, there, Clary, I thought. . ."

"Don't. Even. Go. There. Wait, hey, you didn't call me Red, for once!"

"So does that mean you'll quit calling me Yellow?"

"Not a chance." I folded my arms, trying to look taller than I was. If only Izzy appeared like a fairy godmother and magicked a pair of her seven-inch stilettos onto my feet. . .

"Who's Yellow?" Jonathan strolled up the curb, interrupting my daydream and whatever Jace was about to say. "Hey, Jace. And look, it's Clary."

"No one's yellow," Jace said quickly. Hmmm. That nickname obviously bothered him more than he let on. What a perfect opportunity for blackmail!

"Was I a long time?"

"No, not at all," I said sarcastically. "I just couldn't wait to go out here and stare at the pavement, so I took advantage of the situation while my lazy-ass brother was busy parking his stupid car!"

Jace chuckled. Jonathan glared at me. "I wasn't asking for your opinion, Clarissa."

I shrugged. "Hey, you asked, Jon. Keep your pants on."

I snatched the paper that had our room numbers on them and marched over to the dorms. I heard Jace mumble something like, "Yeah, having a bit of trouble with that, these days, Jon."

I glanced at the piece of paper as I went into the dorm. Jon was in room 810, while I was in room 808. At least I wasn't stuck in the room right next to his. I wondered if I'd have a roommate, or who was in the rooms next to mine.

The inside of the dorm was nice, that was for sure. There was a common room on the first level with a fire crackling in the fireplace. The curly-haired girl and her boyfriend were sitting on one of the loveseats down there, and just to be friendly, I waved at them.

"Hey!" called the boy. "What's your name, again?"

"Clary. Clary Morgenstern," I replied. "Yours?"

The boy grinned. "Jordan Kyle."

"And I'm Maia," the curly-haired girl added, shaking out one of her braids. "What room are you in?"

"808."

"Oh." For a second, I thought Maia's face darkened, but I'd probably just imagined it. Because the next second, her face had a cheerful grin on it. "So you're in the Jace-Isabelle-Will sort of area."

I couldn't decide whether to be happy or annoyed at that. "I guess I am. See you guys around!"

There was something going on in Idris High School, I thought as I walked up a winding staircase to my room. It seemed like the school was divided into two groups: the Maia-Jordan side and the Will-Jace side. And in the middle of it all were people like Tessa and Jem. Odd.

The floors were a shiny hardwood, and the walls pristine. The plaques by each door that said the room number were immaculate, and as I passed to the eight-hundreds section, the floor became more scratched and more graffiti appeared on the walls. I stopped to read some.

_This is SHADOWHUNTER territory! Stay out, mundies! _read one. Who were the Shadowhunters? And what was a mundie? Maybe Isabelle knew, since I had no idea whatsoever. Another said, _Kaelie Fey is a slut. _Oh. Okay, then. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to read the graffiti after all.

I eventually made my way over to room 808 just as I heard Jon and Jace stomping up the stairs into the second level of the dorm. . . "Is it true you and Kaelie are dating?" Well, now was probably a good time for me to disappear. I pulled open the door of 808, and shut it just as Jon and Jace walked past. Then I remembered I still had the paper that said Jon's room number. . . Oops. I'd give it to him later.

"I'm guessing you're the famous Clary Morgenstern?"

I spun around, and felt like an idiot. _How _had I not noticed that the very same sister of Will, Ella Herondale, was sitting on one of the beds? I suddenly felt very awkward, just having barged into her (and my, I guess) room. "Yes. Sorry."

Ella smiled, and I couldn't help but feel jealous because she was insanely pretty. But all the Herondales were, with their delicate features, blue-violet eyes, and dark hair. It was a wonder they weren't supermodels. "Don't worry about it. I'm Ella. I was told I had a new roommate arriving today, but I wasn't really told _who._"

I shook her hand, grateful she wasn't lecturing me on the importance of knocking (which, after living in the same house with Jocelyn for years, is actually very important). "I'm Clary Morgenstern, but it sounds like you already know that."

Ella laughed. "Your name has been circulating the school for the past few days. Mostly because we never get new kids here, but also because you've made quite the name for yourself."

I sat down on what was about to be my bed, which currently had a bare mattress and nothing else. _Not for long, anyways. _"Name for myself?" That was laughable. "That's a load of—"

A sudden knock on the door interrupted me, and Ella nodded towards it. So I rose off the bed and opened the door.

Some poor guy stood there with all my boxes of crap from home. Photos, books, bedding, all that. "Is Clary Morgenstern there. . . ?"

"Yes, I'm her." Realizing what I said probably made it sound sort of like I was talking about myself in third-person—_straight from the nuthouse, nice job, Clary_—I quickly corrected myself. "I mean, that's me."

"Here's your boxes." The guy turned around and went down the exact way he'd just come from. I huffed in annoyance. Jerk. He could've helped me with my stupid boxes, but whatever. I'd get these in someday.

In the end, Ella helped me with the boxes. Once we had lugged them into the room and pried off the duct tape (I ended up punching myself in the face. Long story, don't ask), she danced out the door, saying that she was going to go meet Tessa for tea. Or something like that.

I sighed a heaving sigh. Now, onto unpacking these five boxes. I wasn't entirely sure why Jocelyn made me pack practically every item in my room in the house. It was ridiculous, really, because I seriously doubted every photo frame, all my clothes, and other random stuff would fit into the dorm room, without spilling all over Ella's side of the room. I pushed open the flaps of the first one—books. I might as well get started before Jon or Jace or Will or someone annoying decided to barge in and "help" me. But no. . . I remembered I still hadn't given Jon his room number. _Crap. _He was going to kill me.

* * *

I shut the door with an accidental smashing noise behind me, wincing. Oops. Hopefully no one had decided to take a midday siesta, because I had likely just startled them out of whatever alternate creepy dream universe they were sleeping in.

I checked the whole entire upper level, and Jon was nowhere to be seen. Darn! In fact, no one seemed to be out except for Aline Penhallow and her girlfriend, Helen Blackthorn, who both smiled at me. After going back and forth for about fifteen minutes, it finally occurred to me that Jon might just be in the common room. Lucky me, 'cause he was!

"So. . . who are the Shadowhunters?" Jon's voice filtered up the staircase I had been bounding down. At the mention of the mysterious Shadowhunters, I slowed my pace until I was almost at the bottom stair.

"The Shadowhunters are a lot of things." I almost didn't recognize the voice, until it kept talking and I figured out it was Will, who sounded nothing like the funny, flirtatious boy in my English class with the zombie ducks.

There was a pause, in which the rustle of people moving around on the chairs and couches and the crackling of the fire filled the strangely empty silence.

"The Shadowhunters are the 'bad kids' of everywhere." I could just imagine Will's dark smile.

"But why?" Jonathan's voice came again, sounding fascinated.

"It's complicated." It was Jace this time, who sounded as oddly distant and cold as Will. "People tend to think badly of us because of our Runes, the clothes we wear, the way we act."

"But I'm one of you," Jon protested. When neither boy replied, he demanded, "Aren't I?"

I couldn't stand it. I backed up a few stairs, and then came clattering very loudly and obviously down them.

"Who's that?" I heard Will murmur to someone. I burst into the common room a second later, to find Jon, Will, Jace, Cecily, and Jem all gathered in a very cult-like circle. Creepy.

Jace's face lit up at the sight of me.

"Oh, hello, Clary," Jem said calmly.

"Hi, Jem." I grinned at him, pretending I hadn't heard any of their ominous conversation. "Jesus, Jon, I've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Sorry," Jonathan muttered indifferently, glaring at me. "Well, you were the one who stole that bloody paper!"

"Here." I thrust the now-crumpled paper with his room number on it, plopping down by Cecily and Jon. "Jon, you're in room 810."

"Fantastic," Jon remarked sarcastically. Cecily got up soon afterwards with murmurs of how she was going to go visit Gabriel, and Jem saying he wanted to go play his violin for Tessa, which I thought was sweet. The rest of the circle disintegrated soon afterwards. Will and Jace vanished somewhere, and Jon watched them go with a sort of burning curiosity written openly all over his face. Seeing him, I couldn't help but wonder—what, exactly, had Jon and I gotten ourselves into?

* * *

**ZOMBIE DUCKS! Oh yeah! I honestly don't even know how I come up with these things. . . First the bloody fainting goats and now zombie ducks. . . haha. Sure sign of a clearly mad author right here. **

**Anyways, what do y'all think? Improvements? Suggestions? Requests? I'll take 'em all! Haha. This chapter is a bit odd, but brace yourselves for the next one. Thanks a billion time infinity to all the people who favorite, followed, reviewed, or read! YOU GUYS KEEP ME ALIVE ON HERE! **

**And onto the topic of my savior: SPRING BREAK! *screams in joy* I couldn't be happier omfg! Now I get to write ALL week and update way more often! Yay! I'm not really doing anything, so I'll be glued to my laptop day and night. **

**You know the drill—review, favorite, follow, read, love! **

**Also, just to clear up any confusion—Jem and Tessa are dating in this fanfic :D yay for Jessa!**

**MikiEatonCullenHerondale: Thanks so much and thank you a million for reviewing! I'm so happy you like it :)**

**Morning and Eve: Yep, Jessa is totally going on in this fic :) Ahaha yep Clary doesn't know the half of what she's gotten herself into! Thanks so much for the review!**

**Toasty: Yeah, fainting goats. . . Long story involving YouTube lol. I'm glad you enjoy reading it! Thanks for reviewing :)**

**DazedObsessedandConfused: Thank you so much! *sends virtual cake* Soooo happy that I'm doing something right :D Thank you for the review!**


	4. Chapter 4: Stolen Away

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own TMI or TID. We all know these amazing worlds belong to Cassie Clare. **

**This chapter has drug use in it. You've been warned. (And I'm sorry to anyone it may offend.)**

**Chapter Four: Stolen Away**

* * *

_Remember how we used to party up all night_

_Sneaking out and looking for a taste of real life_

_Drinking in the small-town firelight_

-Lana Del Rey, "This Is What Makes Us Girls"

* * *

Before I knew it, a week at passed at Idris. And it wasn't even as half-bad as I'd been expecting!

Classes were difficult, that was for sure, but I was doing okay in them for the moment. I wasn't a star student like Ella, Tessa, or Jem, who were the kind of people that could read one hundred pages of _Hamlet _(the assigned reading in English) in a short time or do page after page of proofs and quadratic equations and exponential graphs in minutes. It was unfair, but it made sense, oddly enough.

I had figured out who lived in my area of the dorm (aka the graffitied, scratched up, partied in spot), and Maia and Jordan were exactly right. Right across the hall from me was Jace and Jonathan, and to the right of my room sat Will and Jem. Then there was Cecily and Isabelle, Sophie and Tessa, Aline and Helen, Alec and Magnus, and it seemed like everyone who was at the back-to-school party was in the vicinity. I wasn't quite sure if this was a coincidence or if someone had something to do with the room arrangements.

Ever since I'd spied on Jon and heard him, Jace, and Will talking about the Shadowhunters, I hadn't heard or seen anything like it again. As the days I was at Idris grew, I had a sneaking suspicion that Jon, Jace, and Will knew I had heard some of their conversation. It was just in the ways I'd find them in the common room, hissing about something, and then the way their conversation would stop abruptly once they saw me there. Something was going on at Idris, and I was going to find out whatever the hell it was.

I decided this right after classes got out on Friday. And it was bloody lucky that Ella, Tessa, Cecily, Isabelle, and Sophie invited me to a girls' sleepover at Isabelle's house. I discovered on weekends that some students who lived in the dorms went home to see their family, like in Isabelle's case. I knew I could've probably gone home to see Jocelyn and Valentine, but I didn't want to see either of them. I couldn't explain it—one minute, I loved my parents, the next I wanted them out of my life. Probably some kind of selfish teenage thing. Fun.

So right after I shoved my way through the Camille-Jessamine-Kaelie cloud blocking the stairway to the upper level of the dorm, I stuffed some random overnight things in a bag. Ella was neatly folding various pieces of clothing and putting them gently in a duffel bag.

"Hey, Clary!" she shot me a megawatt grin.

"Hi, Ella. Are you excited for tonight?" I was about to zip up my bag, deliberated, and then put _The Great Gatsby _on top, my insides laughing. Tessa's love of classics was certainly rubbing off on me.

"Oh, definitely." Ella laughed, and closed her bag, but not before I spotted all kinds of drug paraphernalia squished into the side.

_What the- ? _ A sense of unease rose up in me. Ella was only a year older than me, and I was almost sixteen, almost seventeen. I didn't know what Ella had done at that party, but judging by what was in her bag, I had a semi-clear idea now.

I caught her arm as we walked out the door. "Why the hell do you have all of _that _in your bag?"

Ella blinked, like she didn't think I'd noticed. Think again, Ella. _I'm an artist. It's my job to be observant. _"I don't know."

I looked her straight in the eye. "Ella, don't you know what'll happen if you keep doing those?"

"I don't really care, Clary. I'm not afraid of death—we're all going to die sometime. I have a perfect reason to be doing all of this, and someday, I'll tell you, but. . . I can't. Not now." The look on her face was one of defiance, and I could see that she was completely fearless. Ella wasn't bluffing, and I couldn't decide whether she was foolish or whether she was the bravest person I'd met.

But she was still throwing her life away. "Ella, don't you understand? Life is a precious thing, and you're tossing yours out the window."

I was surprised to see her forcing tears back. "Clary, I'll explain everything one day. Just accept this for _today_, okay?"

_No, Ella. No, I can't accept this for any period of time._ I gulped. "Okay. Fine. Let's go find Isabelle."

I watched as Ella wiped tears from the corners of her eyes and pulled herself upright. Just like that, it was as if our conversation had never happened.

We walked in silence out to the parking lot, where Isabelle was lounging in her car, stereo tuned to some kind of dubstep mix. Tessa was in shotgun, and Sophie and Cecily were crammed into the back. Ella and I slid in next to them, and Ella turned to Cecily and whispered something quick and inaudible to her. Cecily seemed to understand, and nodded her head in one sharp bob.

"So, what are we doing tonight, Izzy?" Sophie asked tentatively, trying to fill the silence that was spontaneously interrupted by the undeniably sick bass line of Isabelle's music.

Isabelle whipped her head around and tossed a wink at Sophie. "It's a surprise."

A surprise. In Brooklyn, Simon would always throw me a surprise gaming marathon on my birthday. The memory stung with a strange bitter taste, and I found myself not wanting to remember any of it. More happy memories surfaced, and I shoved them down with vigor.

"What surprise?" Sophie wondered.

"A bloody well good one, Soph."

Knowing Izzy, it didn't take half a brain to guess what the "surprise" was. I was betting it was alcohol and whatever Ella was bringing. Which was. . . oddly coincidental to my plans. I thought I could sucker one of the girls into telling me who the Shadowhunters were. I even imagined that they might initiate me into their little circle. But if just one of them ended up drunk, it'd be all too easy to coax it out of them.

As soon as I found myself thinking this, I wanted to smack myself. I was either a psycho or just plain diabolical.

Probably both.

Soon enough, Isabelle pulled up to her mansion's gates and did the cool clicky thing with her keychain. She pulled into the garage, and I stiffened as I saw Jace getting out of the car with the fancy tinted windows. Alec and Magnus followed him, and Jace gave me a slow wave. I didn't return it.

"Jace!" yelped Isabelle, slamming her car door. Jace froze in the main doorway to the house.

"Yes, sister dear?"

"You didn't bring anyone to sleep over tonight, did you?" Seeing Jace's raised eyebrow, Isabelle tacked on another sentence. "I didn't mean Kaelie, I meant one of your friends—and not in the way you're thinking!"

"Scared me for a second there, Isabelle." Jace laughed lightly, and rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't, so you and the rest of your friends can have the house in peace." He stomped inside, and the door shut with a smashing sound.

I slid out of the car. "What's his problem?"

Isabelle sighed, kicking off her shoes. "He's just in one of his moods. Jace is like that. Isn't he, Cecily?"

Cecily nodded enthusiastically, and I guessed she had known Isabelle for a long time. "Jace gets like this all the time."

"Oh."

Isabelle led us all into the house, and then upstairs. There were about a billion rooms on seemingly every floor of her house, although it was easy to tell which were inhibited and which weren't. One door had a huge black symbol marked on it in what looked like Sharpie. Classy. Another was peacefully blank except for a sign that said, "Alec's Room." The one farthest down the hall had a sparkly feather boa wound around the handle and pounding music from inside. I recognized Marina and the Diamonds' track, "Teen Idle."

Shockingly enough, every surface of Isabelle's room was much cleaner than the last time I'd been in there. There weren't various pieces of lingerie, shoes, tops, dresses, and all types of clothing imaginable flooding the floor, chairs, and bed. The vanity was cleared of makeup, and papers from school hadn't exploded like a fine dusting of snow over everything else. . . _yet. _

Isabelle shrugged out of her leather jacket, revealing her strange tattoos up her arms and over her collarbone. My eyes narrowed. I'd be damned if I didn't find out exactly what those "tattoos" were about by the end of the night.

"Truth or dare?" Isabelle's eyes glittered.

* * *

Cecily, Tessa, and Sophie were all fast asleep by two in the morning, so it was just me, Ella, and Isabelle up. Our impromptu game of Truth or Dare had ended a few hours ago, with Cecily confessing her complete love for Gabriel Lightwood (which made sense, since they were already dating), Sophie daring Ella to go and dump a bottle of wine on Jace's head (which resulted in a series of f-words), Isabelle daring me to shoot up some heroin (which I declined), and a whole slew of other embarrassing things I wasn't sure I wanted to remember. Isabelle made me tell her about my "friends" back In Brooklyn, and when I told her I had only one, Simon, she made me practically spill his whole life to her. At the end of my Simon-speech, Izzy had a contrasting "Hmmm" expression on her face. Except she liked Jon, and hadn't even met Simon. . . right? I figured I'd ask her about it later.

The noise of a bag being zipped open made me jump. Ella yanked out all of her drug paraphernalia and put on the spot of hardwood floor in the middle of our triangle. On the other side of the room, Sophie, Cecily, and Tessa were still sleeping, unaware to what was happening across from them.

Ella viciously pulled open one of the Ziploc baggies, narrowly missing spilling the white powder in it everywhere. "Want some, Iz?"

Isabelle's eyes widened and I felt myself become more and more uncomfortable. "What've you got there, Ella?"

"Cocaine, pot, ecstasy, Molly, PCP. . ." Ella rattled off a whole list of everything, and I wanted to vomit. Here was all the stuff that I'd only heard about: the famous teenage scenario of the infamous party or sleepover with all the drugs and drinks and music. For some reason, I had always wanted a tiny little part in it, used to viewing it from afar and scoffing at the kids' idiocy with Simon. And now here I was, in the very thick of it, feeling sick to my stomach, and wishing like hell that I was back in Brooklyn with Jocelyn's curfew and a Hetalia marathon with Simon.

"Clary, do you want anything?" Ella's anxious, tense voice drew me out of my thoughts. _Oh, _I realized. She was waiting to see if I wanted any of it before she got her high. Polite over drugs. I never would've thought.

I shot Ella a look. "No, I don't. Go ahead."

I could practically see the excited fervor etched in every feature of Ella's face. Her hand shot out, reaching for a needle, and a small bottle. I flinched. Heroin. I had never wanted to see it in action, but here I was. She pushed the needle into a vein with a sigh, and I flinched again. Then, as if her bones had turned to jelly, Ella slumped backwards.

I jumped, panic racing through my system. "Ella?" I shook her. "_Ella?_"

"She'll be fine in a few seconds," Isabelle said disinterestedly, leaning over the both of us, snorting up a fine line of white powder. The arm holding her up wobbled, like she was tipsy. "It happens all the time."

Oh, my God. _So does dying from drug abuse, _I wanted to snarl at Isabelle. But I didn't. Shy, invisible Clary Morgenstern didn't say anything like that.

Isabelle giggled, her mood changing. How very capricious of her. "It's just the high, Clare." She laughed. "It's going to be a great day! I can feel it already, strong and invincible like a—"

At this point, Isabelle had fallen back onto her bed. She was as high as a skyscraper. Jesus.

A blissful smile spread across Ella's face, and her eyes shot open. "Hi, Clary."

I watched the dark-haired girl carefully. No way was she overdosing on the bloody heroin tonight. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Better than okay." Ella breathed in; one sharp breath. "Oh, Clary, it's amazing. You should try it."

"I don't want to." I remembered my question. "Ella, can I ask you something?"

"Anything." Ella didn't look at me as she loaded up her needle with another injection of heroin; her hands shaking.

I inhaled deeply, almost coughing on the putrid smoke as Isabelle took a hit. "Who are the Shadowhunters?"

Ella let out a shrill laugh. It frightened me, nearly. I had never seen her like this. Screw that—I had never seen _anyone _like this. "The Shadowhunters are _us._"

I leaned forward, an arm wrapped around my knees. "Us? What do you mean?"

Ella flopped backwards, her black hair fanned out from her head like an angel's, smiling oddly. "We're all Shadowhunters." She thrust her left hand at me. "You're a Shadowhunter if you have _this._"

I stared at the back of her hand. Inked onto it was a bold, ebony eye. "What does that mean?"

"Too many things." For once in our conversation, Ella sounded less and less lucid. The high was fading. She pushed the needle in again, and laughed, putting more heroin in.

"What do the Shadowhunters do?" I pressed. All right, I'm sorry, but I was desperate.

"Not enough." Ella sat up swiftly, pushing my curls back from my face as she peered into my eyes like she was dreaming. "Clary, you don't look very happy."

I looked away. "I'm fine, Ella. Are you?"

"I already told you, I feel amazing." Ella sighed contentedly, but then she leaned over and threw up. She looked like she was going to have another go with her high, but pulled down her sleeve. "Clary, do you want to be happy?"

I had drifted off into my mind again. I liked Ella and Isabelle, but I didn't do drugs. I only did the alcohol that one time. _Once. _I told myself to do it never again. If only Simon was here. . . Then maybe I'd know what to do. "Yeah. Sure. Doesn't everyone?" I answered absentmindedly. Big mistake.

"Then let me help you." Ella pushed up my sleeve, and before I even felt the sting, had shoved the needle into my arm.

I jerked away from her, but it was too late. The heroin was already in my bloodstream. "What the _hell?_"

Ella stared innocently at me. "I'm sorry, Clary, I just want you to be happy."

Well, Ella, I'm _not_ happy now! She'd just injected me with heroin, and I could already feel its effects taking over, with the all-too familiar fear rising up inside me. What was I going to do? I didn't want to become an addict like Ella, or Isabelle, for that matter.

Ella laid back. "Just go with it, Clary."

"I—" I found myself utterly speechless. A wave of euphoria splashed throughout me, and I wondered why I was so angry at Ella. Why should I be _angry _at her? That was ridiculous. My heart rate jumped, and another wash of pleasure zoomed from my fingertips to my toes. I was so happy here! Who _cares _about Simon? I laughed in joy.

Ella laughed with me, as we spread out on Isabelle's floor together. I felt so euphoric. I didn't care about anything. The pleasant buzzing sensation zinged through me, and it felt like someone had bundled me in a warm blanket. I had no worries, no inhibitions. It was as if something had come over and gently hidden the problems in my life. For a moment, I wasn't Clarissa Morgenstern. I was free and relaxed.

And it was beautiful.

At least, that was how it was my first time.

* * *

**This is a shorter chapter (sorry!). I was hoping to update a few days ago, but in spite of it being Spring Break, I'm actually busy. WHAT. Yeah, my parents have been making plans left and right *cries*. Eh, have laptop, will travel! Haha. **

**Side note: I'm not trying to romanticize drugs (because they are something that shouldn't be portrayed that way) but I'm trying to tell Clary's accidental first time accurately. Apologies if it sounds like I'm romanticizing drugs. But I'm honest-to-God trying NOT to. **

**Also, Clary is NOT going to become an addict, for those of you that are worried about that out there. Just thought I'd throw that into the open. **

**Toasty: ahahaha laughed too hard when I saw that. Thank you for that. . . erm, lovely comparison of this fanfic to toast. XD. And thanks for reviewing!**

**Guest: Oops, sorry! I didn't think of that. But, heck, you are totally right! Definitely working on that. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Damon X Misaki: omg thank you so much! Hehe yep Jace is crazy ;) I'm glad to know that I got the Clary-Jon relationship (hopefully) right! I'm happy you like it so much! Thanks for the review :)**

**Vannaluv: Oh there's definitely Clace, but I'm thinking of adding in a little Clary x Will (what are they, Clarill? Lol I have no idea XD) just for fun! Thanks for the review :D**


	5. Chapter 5: Aftermath

**DISCLAIMER: Yeah, no. Don't own anything that looks familiar in the slightest. **

**This fanfic is now rated M for drug and alcohol use, partying, and other adult themes (no smut though). **

**Chapter Five: Aftermath**

* * *

_I am not invisible!_

—Young London, "Broken"

* * *

Beams of sunlight dived into Isabelle's room, ricocheting off all the sparkles that had somehow drifted over every surface in the room.

I jolted upwards with a sneeze, brushing stray particles of glitter out of my hair and off my face just as one of the rays of sun hit me in the eye. I hissed. "It burns!"

I glanced around the room to see who else was up. Isabelle was draped unceremoniously over her desk chair with an empty bottle and a half-filled Ziploc bag next to her. Sophie, Cecily, and Tessa were all nestled in a snug little line in their sleeping bags directly on the other side of the room from where Isabelle, Ella, and I were. _Ella. _My head shot up. She wasn't even in the room.

I opened Isabelle's door a little, miniscule crack. No one else was awake, and the hall was completely silent, except for one noise.

I tiptoed to the bathroom. Ella was bent over the toilet, vomiting into it, with the bathroom door wide open. I waited until she finished.

"Ella, are you okay?"

"Never been better." The dark-haired girl stood up shakily, and wiped her mouth, leaving a smear of red on the back of her hand. "You feeling sick at all, Clary?"

"Why would I—" Then it hit me, and I froze. Last night. The drugs. Ella. I had actually done _heroin, _something I'd promised myself I'd never, ever do.

But yet I had.

At least it wasn't by choice.

But the thing that frightened me most was that I hadn't panicked and tried to get it out of my system. I had accepted it. I had laid there and _laughed _while I did it. And suddenly, I was blazingly furious— whether at myself or Ella, I wasn't sure.

Ella seemed to sense the change in my mood, and shut the bathroom door, paling. "Clary, look—"

"How _could _you?" I gasped angrily. "Ella, you very well damn know I don't do drugs! My parents and brother would _kill_ me if they found out! I don't want to be—" I broke off as my anger faded abruptly.

When I looked at Ella, her eyes were very bright and hard, like gemstones. "You don't want to be like _me. _That's what you were going to say. Isn't it?"

I found myself staring at my feet, unwilling to meet her accusing gaze. Since when did everything become so complicated? If I hadn't ever moved to Britain, none of this bloody mess would've happened. But, the question was, did I _want _to let go?

"I wasn't—" I started.

Ella sighed. With that one sigh, it sounded like all the fight had gone out of her. "Can you listen to me for a minute, Clary?" She didn't wait for my answer. "I was high when I did it. When I made you take it. And I know that's no excuse for making your friend take a drug when you know she doesn't even do drugs" —Ella's voice flickered— "but I _was _high. And I just remember looking at you and thinking about how unhappy you seemed, which in retrospect is kind of ridiculous, since you're such a happy person. I'm sure I was imagining it. But I saw you as unhappy and I wanted to make you feel better, like a good friend would do. Except I was high, so it didn't turn out as my mind thought it would. And I'm sorry for what I did."

Her eyes were full of water, but she didn't cry. And at that moment, it was like I was seeing Ella through a whole different lens. It was as if the mask she put on for control had been peeled away, and she was nothing less and nothing more than the broken, tired friend standing in front of me with blood on her hand.

"I understand." The words were out of my mouth before I even realized they were there.

Ella's eyes widened, and she whispered, "Thank you." Her voice grew stronger. "But you shouldn't have to understand this— whatever this is. When you understand something, it means you've been there, that it's happened to you. And I wouldn't wish that upon anyone. But people should be able to sympathize. To listen. That's what matters."

I could feel my mind spinning at her words. Ella was almost too wise. _But maybe I have been there. _I gave Ella a small smile, and she returned it hesitantly.

* * *

A few hours later, everyone else woke up. Isabelle was first, gasping like someone had dumped cold water all over her, and then flinging herself off her desk chair and into a semi-normal position. The three bugs-under-a-rug woke up last, all stretching and murmuring about how they had a nice sleep. Izzy, Ella, and I all exchanged glances. We knew that our night had been _much_ different than theirs.

"What's for breakfast?" Tessa asked with a yawn.

"Hopefully not peanut-fish-oil soup," Sophie put in, elbowing Isabelle's side.

What the bloody hell was peanut-fish-oil soup? It sounded disgusting. Not to mention I wasn't very hungry anyways. And I was betting that Ella and Isabelle weren't either.

Isabelle shot Sophie a mock-glare. "We're going to Taki's. Now you're _all_ spared from my cooking."

"Taki's?" I muttered to Ella. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a restaurant," Ella replied as we got dressed. I could see that she was still pale and shaky; almost faint.

"Sounds like an evil dictator," I grumbled. Taki's. Jesus. It sounded like something from gaming, which reminded me painfully of Simon. If I closed my eyes, I could almost see him— his odd collection of gamer t-shirts and the way his glasses were always sliding off his nose. . . _I think DJ Bat is doing an exceptional job tonight _and _By the way, I've been cross-dressing and sleeping with your mom _at Pandemonium. All the buttons that he'd given me as a gag gift a few Christmases back.

_Stop it. _I shoved the memories out. I was in freaking _London _now, not back in Brooklyn. And I'd be damned if I spent all day wallowing in my vacation down Memory Lane.

"Meet me downstairs in ten!" Isabelle called. I heard the sound of her heels clicking all the way down the staircase.

"You OK?" Ella asked. I realized I'd been shutting my eyes for a bit, like I was going to sleep while standing.

I smiled quickly. No need to concern anyone. There were much larger problems than mine out there in the world that needed everyone's concern— Ella was a perfect example. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little sleepy."

"Me too." Ella grinned, and it shocked me at how easily she could smile and laugh after what had happened last night and early this morning. "Meet you downstairs, Clare!"

After Ella zipped out of Isabelle's room, I went slowly out. Near the beginning of the hall was the door with the Sharpie-ed on symbol.

I found myself drawn closer and closer to the symbol. I didn't know what was with it— there was just _something _about it. Maybe it was the diamond in the center, or the jutting, angular lines that frayed off from it? I couldn't figure it out. It was just a crude drawing someone drew on their door because they were bored, but yet I found myself leaning against the door while tracing the contours of the symbol like I was trying to morph its secrets into a language I understood.

Then the door was flung open, and I fell forward, cursing violently in my head. _Crap crap crap! _Just great. Now I was going to have to apologize to the poor person whose room this was right after _face-planting at their feet._

I prepared to land gracelessly on the floor when a pair of arms grabbed my waist and pulled me upright, making it so they were behind me and preventing my demise as the clumsiest person in the mansion. _What the—?_

"God, Red, you've _really _fallen for me now," a voice said silkily in my ear, and utter horror rose up inside me. _Jace. _I had just been caught by _Jace Effing Herondale _for the second time in a month or so.

And I wanted to die.

I whirled around, effectively detaching me from his arms, and took a large step back away from him and his damned door.

Jace had a smirk the size of Texas written all over his face. "I'm awfully curious, Red, so please enlighten me: _Why_ are you so completely interested in my door again?"

"I'm not 'interested' in your door, asshole," I snapped, feeling humiliated because I had practically fallen right into his arms and because he'd used that bloody nickname, Red, again. Yeah, yeah, most girls would be pretty thrilled to have Jace Herondale catch them and then give them a nickname. Not me.

"Such a dirty mouth," Jace said suggestively. God, _what_ was it with the Herondales and innuendos?

"Oh, excuse me. I'm not 'interested' in your door, _Yellow_."

Jace grinned devilishly at me. "That's right. You're interested in the hot stuff that lies _behind_ the door."

Oh. My. Fricking. Jesus. Christ. I was going to kill him. I was heavily tempted to tell him to shut his whore mouth, but I decided against that little Tumblr-based insult. "Whatever, Yellow. I don't really have time for your crap today. Later."

"Clary, wait." Jace snagged my wrist, just like that first day of school where he wanted to abolish Jonathan Morgenstern because he was stealing all the girly attention on campus. _I can't believe I actually just remembered that. _

I gave an exaggerated sigh. "What do you want, Jace?"

"Why were you staring at my door? Seriously, I'm just curious." Curious. Ha, my ass. There was something in his voice that told me he was oddly desperate to know.

I figured he wasn't going to leave me alone until I told him, so I did. "Fine! It's just that symbol, or whatever it is. I already know I'm crazy, but. . . there's just _something_ about it."

"What are you talking about, Clary? There isn't a symbol on my door." Jace began to pale.

I shot him an annoyed look. "Cut the crap, Jace. There's a bloody symbol on your damn door right _there._" I stabbed at the center of the diamond thing. "Can't you see it? Big, black, diamond-y symbol _right there._"

Jace blanched further, and I looked at him curiously. "What? Is no one allowed to touch the symbol shrine? Is that symbol just holy to you, or whatever? Well, then, excuse me for just wondering about that bloody symbol of—"

"She's not supposed to be able to see it," Jace muttered to himself, then jerked up when he realized he'd spoken out loud.

"What the_ hell_ are you talking about? I'm not blind, you know."

Jace turned away from me, and when he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "Oh, but you are blind." His tone darkened. "You just don't know it."

I stared at the back of his head, baffled. "Look, I don't know _what_ you smoked last night, but—"

Jace spun around to face me in a movement so fast it was blurred. _What the hell is going on. . . ?! _"Shut up, Clary," he snapped. "I have to go talk to Alec."

And with that, he stalked off to the door with the neat little "Alec's Room" sign on it, slamming the door behind him with a crash.

Well then.

I stood there by the symbol gaping. When I finally remembered how to close my jaw, I unfroze myself and scurried down the stairs.

* * *

"Clary, where _were _you?" Cecily asked curiously once I made my presence in the kitchen known by tripping over a chair and nearly twisting my ankle.

"I was just using the bathroom," I invented. "Curly hair takes a while to brush. Sorry if I held up breakfast."

"You didn't hold up anything," Isabelle assured me, flipping her long, inky hair over one shoulder before tying it up and out of the way. "We're just about to head off to Taki's. In the car, everyone!"

It turned out that the Lightwoods didn't live very far from Taki's (which I was tempted to nickname "The Evil Dictator"). It felt like the Lightwoods lived in the very center of everything. Funny.

Taki's had to be the oddest restaurant I'd ever seen. The first thing I noticed was the dude at the entrance with a long, faded trench coat with the collar unfolded to his nose and a hat, which hid the remainder of his features in shadow.

Isabelle gave him a little wave. "Hi, Clancy!"

Dude had a name. Clancy. There was. . . something about it that felt familiar, like I'd met him before. But I hadn't. I didn't know anyone in this restaurant besides my friends.

The next thing that tipped me off about Taki's was the patrons there. It seemed as though Taki's had been having one of those dress up days that was something along the lines of _The Crazier, The Better!_ because almost everyone at Taki's seemed to be dressed up in some crazy, unusual, or wildly colorful way. There was a beautiful Indian girl with a gauzy white dress that had jagged edges and equally diaphanous golden wings that sprouted from the back of her dress. The boy next to her had neon, spiky hair and was sipping something from a tall glass. I passed a tableful of people that all had something off about them. Several had brightly colored skin like the people in the Capitol in _The Hunger Games_. Another had slit pupils like a cat's. There was another table of patrons that had delicately pointed ears and eyes that were one whole color. At the bar was a man with a glass filled to the brim with sludgy, red liquid. Some kind of weird wine, most likely.

The third thing was the menu. From reading Taki's menu, I felt like it was Halloween or something, because they had things like whole raw steaks, various types of blood, and faerie plums. Whatever those were. Although, I admit, it was pretty creative of Taki's, it still creeped me out. But when I asked Isabelle if the stranger dishes were actually real, she laughed nervously before assuring me that they were just good fun.

Although the whole time I was in Taki's, I couldn't shake the odd feeling of something being off. Probably just me, or that heroin I'd accidentally shot up last night.

_Heroin. It was definitely the heroin,_ I thought as soon as I could've sworn I spotted someone in black with the same marks Isabelle and Jace and everyone else had. The same person twirled a dagger with a sepulchral grin, their dark hair lighting up in the restaurant's lights. The person turned around, and I felt the breath go out of me.

Blue-violet eyes. Black hair. Arrogant, cocky smile.

Will Herondale.

I gasped, dropping my fork. Ella, who was sitting next to me, looked concerned, elbowing me. "What happened?"

"Dammit, isn't that _your brother?_" I hissed, pointing towards Will, who was staring directly at me with something akin to horror painted in his eyes.

Ella's mouth fell open, but I didn't get what the big deal was. Surely she couldn't be _that _mortified to see Will in a restaurant. . . "What is he _doing _here?"

"I don't know," I whispered. When we went to look at Will again, he was gone. "What— but— he was _right there!_"

Ella shook her head, turning back to her food. "I don't think he was there, after all. Probably just aftereffects of the drugs, know what I mean?"

My jaw dropped. "Are you kidding, Ella? You— we— just bloody _saw_ him!"

Ella shook her head harder. Stubborn. Determined. "No, we didn't. It was the heroin, Clary. All right?"

"Fine," I seethed. I wasn't hallucinating. I had seen Will Herondale in Taki's. And why was Ella so freaked out about having seen him? It wasn't that big of a deal to run into your brother in public. They went to the same school, partied at the same parties. Why would she freak now at seeing him in a _restaurant,_ of all places? Well, if it were prom dinner and he was coming to crash it, that _was_ understandable. But now? Oh _please,_ Ella.

Once everyone finished eating at Taki's, we headed back to Isabelle's house so she could gather a fresh batch of outfits for the following week and then back to Idris. Before we left, however, I scoured the restaurant with one quick gaze. I landed upon a dark-haired boy in black, but when I looked again, he was gone. Perhaps Ella was right— maybe it _was _the heroin. I guess I'd never know.

* * *

On Monday, I was surprised to find myself having a high anticipation for English. Finally, a chance to confront Will about the weird scene in Taki's a few days ago.

I wasn't sure how he'd take it, though, I considered as I ran off to my English classroom before the bell. I waved a hasty goodbye to Ella and Isabelle, making a vain effort to get to class before the bell rang. At least I'd already left my backpack in the classroom— sparing me from looking like a lumbering bear while dashing down the hall.

Will was already in his seat, and Sebastian in his. Actually, pretty much everyone was in their seats except for me. As I walked past Kaelie, she stuck out a foot to trip me, which (lucky me, maybe today just might've been a good day) I overstepped on my way to the back. I could feel her glare burning into me somewhere between my shoulder blades.

When I managed to flop tiredly into my seat, Will had my backpack on his lap and was examining it. _What the— _

Will finally noticed I was there. Jeez, oblivious much? His mouth curved into a familiar grin. "If it isn't Clarissa Morgenstern."

"Hello, _William,_" I retorted. "What are you doing with my backpack?"

"Who do you think graffitied it?" Will handed my backpack to me, and I stared at him, bemused.

"What on Earth are you talking about?" I turned the pack around, and my mouth fell open. "What the _hell? _"

On the front, someone had written in Sharpie my "nickname": RED. _You've got to be kidding me! _And I knew exactly who did it.

"I _hate _him!"

"Hopefully not me. I'm much too beautiful."

I groaned. _Herondales. _"I'm not talking about you, idiot. It was _Jace! _The arse!"

A dose of carefully controlled tension entered Will's voice once Jace's name was mentioned. "What does Jace have to do with anything?"

_What was up with everyone_?

"He graffitied my backpack, Will." I pointed to the RED inked on the front of the bag.

"Oh. Right." Will was still frowning. "Wait, how d'you know it was him?"

"_He _coined that bloody nickname— Red. I hate it. Don't get any ideas," I warned, slapping my pack back on the floor. "How the hell am I supposed to get this out?"

"I can go punch him for you," Will offered, his dark blue eyes glittering with a grin.

"Thanks, but I'll pass." I traced my finger along the RED. Then it occurred to me. "Wait, how does _he_ know what class I have first period today? Will, did you tell him?"

"Well, I might've. . ." Will lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

Damn. If I was lucky, Will hadn't recited my whole schedule to Jace yet.

"Um, just wondering, but why?" I wanted to hit myself (and possibly Will) over the head in frustration. The last thing I needed was protecting my belongings from Jace.

"Little Herondale scuffle. Nothing personal."

I could see that Will obviously wasn't going to tell me anything else about why he did it, so I was going to change the topic to the Taki's incident, which was steadily creeping me out more and more. Except—

"Now, _I_ have a question for _you,_" Will announced, putting my carefully laid plans in disarray.

"Okay, what?" I felt as if the RED was glaring at every student like, _Hey, make sure to call Clary Red today! _Just no.

"Why _did_ Jace give you a nickname?"

"Why? Do you think he likes me or something? Ooooh. Only second-grade boys get a kick out of irritating a girl to pieces ." Although through my short experience with the Herondales, I had a feeling it wasn't just second-grade boys anymore. . . "Do you want a nickname too, Will, so you can be in the Nickname Club? I'll call you Willy."

Two seconds later, I realized my mistake. _Why _did mortifying things involving hot boys keep happening to me?! God.

Will wound up a trademark suggestive look and threw it at me. "Well, some of the girls around here say I _am_ known for that. . ."

"Ew. Will. Don't even _go_ there. It was an accident! Let's just pretend that little snippet never, ever happened. Okay?"

Will cracked up. "I'm never letting this go, Clary. Ever."

"I'll knock you out if that'll keep you from telling anyone else that," I retorted, although I was laughing too.

At the sound of my laughter, Sebastian's head jerked up from his homework, which he was feverishly trying to get done (in-depth questions on _Hamlet_). "What'd I miss?"

Will and I shared an identical glance, and burst into laughter as Sebastian shook his head with a small smile.

* * *

During break, I caught Will's arm in the hallway before he could dash past me.

"Hey, Red." Will grinned, knowing very well just how much he was annoying me.

I gritted my teeth. "Stop with that damned nickname, or so help me, I'll whack you with this cursed backpack."

No matter what I tried during my "bathroom break" in English, I hadn't been able to get RED out. I must've used about a gallon of the school soap, but the graffiti still remained unscathed on the very front. And as soon as I had accidentally ran into Camille (well, she ran into me), she made sure to yell, "Look, it's _Red! _" to the whole corridor. And it stuck. I swear, my maths teacher nearly called me Red. I was actually going to go and kick the crap out of Jace.

"Then I'd have to announce your new nickname for me," Will said with a wink as he towered over me while we were walking outside.

I crossed my arms and stared up at him as we went onto the grounds. "You wouldn't."

"Oh yes I would, Clary. Is there something you wanted to ask me?" Will said with a smirk.

"Not whatever was circling around in that dirty mind of yours," I shot back. "Were you at Taki's on Saturday?"

"Stalking me, Clary?"

I pressed down the immense urge to roll my eyes. Did Will ever let up with those bloody comments of his? "No, you idiot, I'm just curious. Gosh. I thought I saw you there, so I asked Ella about it, and she freaked out. She said it was the he—"

I'd been so caught up in my little story that I forgot that I was going to emit the part where Ella said it was probably the drugs we'd done the previous night. No way was I getting Will all worked up about his older sister, and I wasn't about to tell anyone that information who was likely to pass it onto Jonathan. Because if he found out, I was dead.

"The what?" Will's voice had taken on a sharp quality, like a razor blade, as he looked me straight in the eye. _Don't look away. He'll know you're lying. _

"It's nothing." I increased my pace so I was walking ahead of him.

Before I knew it, Will was back at my side. Damn. He had mad skills. . . at catching up and forcing an answer out of annoyed people. Will snatched my arm and said fiercely, "It's not nothing, Clary. What were you doing at Izzy's sleepover?"

I shrugged carelessly. That was good. I needed to make it look like I wasn't lying. "Truth or Dare. You know. Girly stuff. Isabelle screwed around with my hair for ages, trying to straighten it, but my hair has a mind of its own because it's curly, and—" I snapped my mouth shut, realizing I'd been babbling. This was bad. Bad, bad,  
bad.

"I'm serious, Clary." Will fixed me with a glare, his blue-violet eyes narrowing into a burning look.

"So I am." I tried to free myself from his iron grip with no avail.

"Clary, if you don't tell me what you did at Izzy's, I'm getting Jonathan."

I panicked. Any of this could spread like wildfire from Jonathan to Valentine, and then I was positive I'd be yanked out of Idris and grounded for life. "Fine, fine! Just don't tell Jon. Or," I scowled at Will, "I'll by wiped of the face of the planet by my dad. And if I tell you, then you tell me something I want to know."

Will exhaled. "Fine. Get talking."

"It's really nothing, Will, I'm being honest." I slapped his hand off my arm. "I just did some drugs."

Will's eyes looked even angrier and colder if that was possible. But under his icy mask was a dash of. . . fear? Was he scared for me?

I brushed it off. _Ridiculous and impossible. _"Don't get blazingly furious, Will! Besides, how can you lecture me when I know that you do them _all the time?_"

I was _so_ leaving out the part about how I didn't do them by choice, and what drugs Ella did.

"What drugs did you do, Clary?" Will asked evenly after a few minutes.

"You're still not telling Jon, right?" I questioned quickly.

"Right."

"I did heroin. That's it." I waited for Will to explode.

"Clary, do you know what that can _do_ to you?" Will actually looked scared.

"Yes, Will," I snapped. "I took a health class last year. Do you know whatever you're doing can do to _you?_"

Will looked away, and muttered, "I'm not on anything, Clary."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying. I've been clean ever since that party." Will's voice was steady, and I could tell he meant it. "It's not very long, but I've been trying."

It was my turn to look away, unsure what I should say in response.

After about a minute of strained silence, Will cleared his throat. "What was your question?"

_Oh. Right. _I took a deep breath. "Will, I saw you at Taki's. You were dressed in black, had lots of tattoos,—" I poked an escaping one that was twirling out of his sleeve "—and you had a dagger. I remember that, because you were whirling it around. How did you learn to do that, Will?"

Will opened his mouth to say something— an excuse, most likely— but I cut him off. "Don't say you weren't there. I saw you, and I know you saw me, because you freaked out. Ella freaked out. And you know what Ella said? She said it was just a side effect of the heroin. But I _saw _you. It wasn't a damn side effect. But why did you run away?"

We were quiet for another few minutes. _He's trying to formulate an excuse. _Finally, Will broke the silence. "That's not one question."

"I don't care, Will. I want an explanation."

Will sucked in a breath. "You want an explanation? Fine. You weren't supposed to be able to see me. End of story."

I froze, recoiling from him. This was the second time this had happened. No, not the _second _time. The third time. I thought back to the time when I asked Isabelle about her tattoos, and how she looked down at them, looked back up at me, and shifted uncomfortably in her seat before awkwardly explaining it to me. And then Jace's door. And now Will at Taki's. How much drugs did these people take? Or were they all in some kind of crazy cult?

"What the _hell_ are you _talking_ about?" I whispered. Déjà vu much?

Will laughed bitterly. "Look, Clary, it's complicated."

My mouth fell open. I had heard that one too many times in my life, and I was sick of it. "_It's complicated?! _Are you _kidding _me? I'm so damn _tired_ of people saying that! It's just a lazy-ass way to get out of an actual fricking explanation! Will, you're a total— !" I broke off once he began to walk away as the bell rang.

Holy hell. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this _mad!_

I was going to get an explanation for this, no matter _what_ the cost.

* * *

At last the last class had ended, and I was sprinting off to the dorm with an armful (and a backpack full of) textbooks, notebooks, and binders I needed in order to accomplish the long list of homework I had due soon. I was running as fast as I could with heavy books so I could avoid Kaelie, Jessamine, and Camille. Why? Because they always had to stand _right in front _of the door to my room or the entrance to the upper level of the dorm or just the entrance to the dorm. It was like their favorite pastime: Getting pissed at Clarissa Morgenstern because she had to shove her way through their little circle.

And maybe if I ran today, I could avoid the gaggle of poisonous popular girls. . .

I made it through the dorm entrance without any speed bumps. The three blonde heads I hated so much were nowhere to be seen. At least, that's what I thought until I stopped dead a few rooms away from mine because of who was in front of it. Three guesses.

_To hit with a textbook or to not hit with a textbook _was the important philosophical-Shakespearean question I was running over in my mind.

I approached Kaelie, the dishwater blonde with eyes that were. . . _one whole color. How_ had I not noticed this before? Her eyes were exactly like the table or marble-eyed people at Taki's. _What the. . . _

"Oh, it's _Clarissa,_" sneered Kaelie, pronouncing my name like it was some kind of vile profanity.

"Excuse me," I gritted out from between my teeth, pushing into the center of their nasty little circle so I could type in the passcode for my door.

"Ew, what did she _do_ to her hair today?" Jessamine hissed loudly. The accidentally-on-purpose loud that was designed for the victim to hear as clear as day.

Okay, so my hair wasn't flatiron-straight. Well, excuse me for disliking hair that was as straight as pins or uncooked spaghetti noodles. And _who_ wants to spend hours in the morning straightening their hair into a hairdo that'll only last for half the day, anyways?

Apparently Jessamine, Kaelie, and Camille were vain enough to do so.

I clenched my teeth as I stabbed the buttons to type in the passcode as the Three Blondes (it was either that or the Three Stooges) hovered over me like great, ugly vultures and cackled like storybook Disney witches. Or a modern-day bitch. Either one works perfectly.

Finally, finally I got the damn passcode right and the door cracked open. I shoved myself inside the room and slammed the door. But even though it was obvious their little plaything was gone, Jessamine, Camille, and Kaelie still stayed outside the door.

What the hell did they think they were doing, waiting around like a grade-A pain in my ass for me to come out so they could ridicule me some more? Get a life, losers.

"Were they there again?" Ella asked sympathetically, turning around in her desk chair.

"You bet. Screeching and flapping around like vultures!" I yelped angrily. "What do they think they're _doing?_"

"Trying to get a rise out of you because they think they're Queen Bitches of Idris High School," Ella answered. "I'd go and slap them, but. . ." She trailed off. I knew what Ella was going to say, though. Even though she was older than some of the Three Blondes, she was just as powerless as I was in the Idris hierarchy.

I remembered my strange conversation with Will earlier that day. I _had _to ask Ella about that.

"Ella, can I ask you something?" I pulled my AP Chemistry textbook out of my backpack.

"Sure, what is it?"

"I, um, asked Will about that time at Taki's. I asked him why you were so jumpy about the whole thing." I paused, trying to gauge Ella's reaction.

"And?" Ella's voice was neutral, but I could see her blank facade peeling apart.

"He said I wasn't supposed to be able to see him," I said, the words rushing out of my mouth. "But that's not the first time that's happened. At Izzy's sleepover, when I was using the 'bathroom' right before we went to Taki's, I was really talking to Jace about a symbol on his door."

Ella remained frozen as I began to doodle nervously on my science homework in hopes that she'd reply.

"Ella?" I pleaded.

At last, she turned around, shaking. "What _are _you, Clary?"

"I— What?"

When I looked up at Ella again, her eyes were glued to my science homework, and she let out a small scream. "What are you _drawing?!_"

My gaze shot down to my homework. There, in the once-empty margins was something as oddly familiar to me as Jonathan: A bold, blackened symbol with a diamond as the center.

It was the same symbol on Jace's door, and the same symbol that was on the paper Ella had ripped out of my hands to stare in horror at.

* * *

**Big, huge, enormous apologies! I meant to update this a few days ago, and I would've, except MY LAPTOP CRASHED. Badly. I wanted to kill it. (Or violently throw it against a wall.) And I lost all of COTF AND my new chapter! So I had to go onto the website and copypaste my own fanfic to Word. . . jeez. Nightmare. The laptop still isn't working, so I'm on an actual computer now. But this chapter is finally done, so yay! **

**Big, fat thanks to everyone who's reviewed, followed, favorited, or read COTF! You guys keep me alive! XD**

**Can you guys believe Spring Break is almost half over? What? Nooooo! I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL! *sobs* In case whoever set up this unfortunate schooling system hasn't noticed, PEOPLE ACTUALLY LIKE NOT BEING IN SCHOOL! School rant ended now. Well, I'll try to update as much as possible before school starts again. **

**Guest: Yeah, it probably should be! I've changed the rating because you're totally right. Thanks for helping me with that!**

**Healing-Takes-Time: Haha you're welcome! Yep I love the evolving Will-Clary-Jace love triangle at the moment too. There should be some good fluff coming up in the next few chapters or so. Thanks for reviewing!**

**AnnaW14: Thank you so much! I'm really, really happy you think so :D Thanks for the review!**

**Damon X Misaki: Thanks a billion! I must be doing SOMETHING right haha. Yeah I still have no clue how I came up with zombie ducks and freaking fainting goats XD And you're right about the student-Shadowhunter part (which is sorta a spoiler)! Thank you so much for the reviews!**

**Knives are sharp and hateful: Haha thank you! And here's your update ;) Thanks for reviewing!**

**Morning and Eve: Sorry ;) I love Wessa, but wanted to change things up a bit for Jessa shippers XD Zombie ducks omg. . . That should be someone's Halloween costume haha! Yeah Ella's kinda OOC in this fic. . . But she has her reasons. Thank you for the reviews!**


	6. Chapter 6: Enkeli

**DISCLAIMER: Insert usual message that accompanies my disclaimers here. **

**Chapter Six: Enkeli**

* * *

_'Cause this is a wasteland,_

_ My only retreat_

_With heaven above you,_

_There's hell over me_

—Pierce the Veil, "Hell Above"

* * *

"What?" I tugged relentlessly at the paper in Ella's iron grip. "What is it? Give me back my paper, Ella."

Ella, still gripping my science homework, spun away from me. I could see her trembling. _What the hell is happening? _"I'm sorry, Clary. I just. . ." Ella turned with my science homework, and ran out the dorm door in a panic.

"Ella, wait! Ella!" I shouted loudly enough to wake the dead. But I saw her disappear into Will's room. The door slammed shut.

I swore, and another door swung open. An annoying blonde head popped out. I wanted to tear my hair out— Jace was _the last _thing I needed at the moment. What I needed was answers!

"What's got you all hot and bothered?" Jace slid outside into the hall where I was standing (and cursing fluently). He then muttered, "Swear much?"

"Pardon my French, Jace," I snapped. "But by any chance, would you happen to know what is up with a diamond symbol? As in, the one you Sharpie-ed on your door at the Institute?"

Jace froze, then said cautiously, "Diamond symbol? What drugs are _you _shooting up, Red?"

He then made a move as to walk back inside his room and blow me off.

"Oh _hell_ no," I exclaimed, frustrated, and grabbed his arm. "Don't you dare walk away from me, Herondale!"

Jace raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm about to do that when you're standing right there?"

I would've smacked my forehead if I hadn't been so concentrated on restraining him. "Answers. Give me answers. Now."

"Look, Red, I can't give you answers, but if you'd showed up to Idris a little earlier, I might've not shacked up with Kaelie and then I _would _have something to give you."

"You're disgusting. Why am I even talking to you again?" I glanced at the stark, black tattoos on his arms instead of my feet, and my eyes connected with something awfully familiar. . .

"Um, what're you doing, Clary?" For once, Jace sounded a little nervous.

"That— _damn_— diamond— symbol," I snarled, pulling his arm closer. And sure enough, there it was, just like the one I'd drawn. "Why do you have it on your arm?"

"Do you want me to explain all my tattoos to you now?" Jace offered sarcastically, trying to appear nonchalant at the same time. _Nice try, buddy. _

I gave him a if-looks-could-kill sort of glare, and he relented.

"Stubborn, aren't we, Clary? But I got that one because I liked it. Satisfied with my explanation?"

"No," I gritted out. Sorry, but I was sick and tired of all the little mind games people were playing on me. Like I was a pawn in their full-scale chess game or something. It was as if Idris had turned into a game show: _Who Can Make Clary Go Insane First?! Winner gets $25,000! _"I'm not satisfied, Jace. And don't you dare make an innuendo about that. You know what doesn't add up?"

Jace opened his mouth, and then closed it, and then replaced it with the same Herondale-brand smirk I'd seen Will wear so many times. "Enlighten me, Clarissa."

"Your crap about how you 'liked' the tattoo doesn't explain why I've started _drawing_ it."

I could tell that Jace was struggling to hide his surprise by covering it up with one of his trademark arrogant comments. "I never knew you liked me and my tattoos that much!"

I crossed my arms. Too bad I was so short and Jace was like a giant. "Not even, Jace. So here's what's happening: All of a sudden, I'm seeing this I'm not supposed to, and now I'm drawing weird crap. Seriously. Clue me in, because this is ridiculous."

"Some other time, Clary. I've gotta go talk to Will." With one quick twist, Jace's arm was out of my grip and he was sauntering off to Will's room. I shut my mouth and instead settled for skewering his retreating form with a burning glare. _Asshole. _

But what was it with Will? Why _did _everyone want to talk to him? First Ella, now Jace. . . And I bet you Jon was in there too. Well, if no one was going to tell me, I was sure as hell going to find out myself!

I did a hallway check. Lucky me— there was no one else in the vicinity but me. I could hear slight voices filtering up from the common room, but with the way their conversation sounded, they weren't about to go marching upstairs anytime soon. I crept over to Will's door. If I came close enough to it without leaning directly on the door (not about to repeat the me-falling-over thing that had happened with Jace's door again), I could still hear the faint patter of voices clearly enough.

"Will, we have to do _something!_" This was obviously Ella, and she sounded like she was panicking.

"We might not have to." Will sounded distant; as remote as Hawaii seemed from Britain.

"No, Ella's right," Jace put in. "Listen, Will, didn't Clary tell you yet. . . ?" Maybe my ears were screwing with me, but Jace sounded almost. . . _smug. _

"No," hissed Will. "So why don't you tell the rest of us. I doubt she told Ella either."

"Clary's started drawing them." There was a soft rustling noise, like Jace had drawn up his sleeve. Probably to show them the tattoo that looked identical to my sketch.

I heard Will suck in a sharp breath. "By the Angel."

What kind of expression was _that? _I'd never heard it anywhere in my life, but I had a feeling it'd be integrated into my vocabulary from now on.

"Okay, then she did tell me about it," Ella's voice sounded again. "Actually, I sort of stole her homework because I found the rune on it."

Rune? Um, what? It sounded like I'd been deposited into an Ancient Rune class from Harry Potter as Jace and Will began muttering about the type of rune it was.

Will huffed, irritated. "So I was the only one in the dark, then?"

"Sounds like it. Sorry." Jace didn't sound sorry at all, contrary to his statement.

"Screw you, Jace," Will snapped.

"Been there, done that." I could practically hear Jace gloating.

"Jace, you son of a—"

"Hello!" Ella coughed. "This isn't the point, guys. You can go and punch each other's intestines out later, or something, but what are we going to _do?_"

"Jesus Christ, Ella! I didn't know you were into that kind of stuff." Will let out a laugh. "I'm sure I can hook you up with someone."

There was a slapping noise, and then a loud "Ow!" from Will.

"I'm serious here, you lot."

"You're no fun," Will pouted.

"Oh, fine," Jace sighed. "As amusing as that was, we need to get down to business. And not _that _kind of business, Will. We _are_ cousins. I'm 100% sure I know what you were just about to say."

"So. . ." I could hear Ella anxiously shifting around. "Do we tell—"

"Absolutely. Not," Will growled.

"Why?" Jace sounded bewildered. "She's going to keep digging around for answers. I know Clary, and that's what she'll do."

Damn. Unfortunately for me, Jace had my oh-so cunning strategy discovered and mapped. And what did the "I know Clary" part mean?

"No, she won't," Will countered.

"Well, maybe you just don't know Clary as well as _I_ do, William," Jace snapped.

"What are you suggesting, you little mother—"

"_Will!_" Ella interrupted. "Can you keep your swearing to a minimum, please?"

"Tell that to _him_," Will retorted.

I had to stifle a laugh, and froze. For one heartbeat of silence inside Will's room, I was terrified they'd heard me. Luckily, it turned out to be nothing more than a lull in the conversation.

"Anyways, I think Jace's right," Ella stated firmly. "I know Clary better than _both _you douchebags, and that is _exactly _what she's going to do. Mark my words, Will."

"It's not like I _want_ to keep this secret from Clary, but it's too dangerous. Once we get her wrapped up in the Shadow World, I doubt she's going to be able to untie herself from it all." Will's miniature speech ended on a sad note.

_What_ was the "Shadow World"? _Don't keep me in suspense Will, spill more of your deepest, darkest feelings to Jace and Ella with the person you're talking about standing _right outside the door.

"It _is_ dangerous," Jace mused. "But couldn't we protect her? And does Clary really care about danger?"

I thought back to all the alcohol at the back-to-school party that I'd drank. No, no, I didn't really give much of a crap about danger if I was its target.

"Maybe." Will sounded hesitant. I'd heard Will sound many things— sarcastic, annoying, arrogant, hilarious, distant— but he never seemed to be hesitant about anything.

Ella took a deep breath. "So it's settled. We're telling Clary. Except _who?_"

"Me," Jace and Will said at the same time. I could imagine the glares they shot at each other.

"Will, back off," Ella admonished. "Why don't _I _just tell her?"

"Because I want to," Will said, like it was obvious.

"You are _not _telling her," snarled Jace.

"Oh, think you can stop me, Golden Boy?" Will taunted.

I heard the sound of someone standing up. The last thing I heard before I went back to my room was, "Damn right, Will."

* * *

I fell asleep that night with a million different things running— no _stampeding _is a more accurate definition—through my head. Although I was dying to know what the explanation for all the weird stuff that'd been happening, I was feeling regretful at listening to Ella's, Will's, and Jace's conversation.

Too bad that Ella didn't come to the room until late that night, because I probably would've asked her about the conversation. Instead, I had to settle for rolling over and trying to forget about the whole thing.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, I spotted a familiar white-blonde head sitting next to Gabriel and Gideon at breakfast. A grin spread across my face. _Well, if it isn't my long-lost brother, Jonathan. _I hadn't seen Jon for a while at Idris— probably because he was all wrapped up in whatever politics everyone else was involved in. Everyone _but_ me, seemingly– but by judging the conversation held yesterday, I wouldn't be in the darkness for long anymore.

I plopped next to Jon. Gabriel and Gideon smiled at me, and I returned the grin. I poked Jon in the shoulder. "What? No 'hello' to your little sister?"

"Oh. It's you," grumbled Jon, shoveling another forkful of breakfast in his mouth.

I hit his arm. "Do you _ever _stop _eating?_"

Grunt. I sighed. What a response. I looked up at Gabe and Gideon. "Sorry if I interrupted whatever scintillating conversation Jon was carrying on with you guys."

"You're fine, Clary," said Gideon. "You're not interrupting anything. Besides Jon's breakfast, I suppose." He snickered. "Anyways, has either of you seen Sophie anywhere?"

"No, but I have," smirked Jace as he slid in next to Gabriel on the opposite side of the table from me. "Lovesick much, Gideon?"

Gideon went red, and spluttered, "You're one to talk, Jace!"

"Unfortunately, my one true love remains myself."

"Well," I chimed in, "at least you don't have to worry about rejection."

"Not necessarily. I turn myself down just to keep things interesting."

I couldn't decide whether to laugh or stare at him. How did Jace come _up _with these things? Must be that Herondale arrogance that was probably inflating his ego.

"Jace, seriously, _where _is Soph—"

"I think I saw her with Tessa over in the common room," Jace interrupted, sounding bored, and called after a retreating Gideon, "You know, if a girl turns you down once, I don't think she's going to go out with you!"

"So. . ." Jon lifted his head up from his food. Sleeping— or rather _Eating_— Beauty awakens. Instead of stabbing him with a spindle, someone should stab him with a fork. "It's tonight, Jace?"

I leaned forward. Finally, something interesting that I might be able to gain information on the "Shadow World" had arrived. "_What's_ tonight? Can I go?"

Jon turned his head to scowl moodily at me. "None of your business, that's what, Clary."

I pretended to be offended. "Ouch, Jon. Really bringing out the big guns there. So, what's tonight that's so important?"

When neither of them answered, I pasted a sweet (if not overly flirty) smile on my face and leaned across the table to Jace. Normally, I wouldn't condone this kind of behavior in myself (because I am anything _but _flirty), but hey, I was desperate. "C'mon, Jace. Can't you tell _me?_"

Jace glanced up, and seemed surprised to have me closer to him than usual. He actually looked _uncomfortable. _Almost awkward for once. "Um, look, Clary, it's nothing, really, just this thing in my room, really. . ."

I sat back with a triumphant grin. Ha. I had gotten it out of Jace, and that was a miracle in itself. "Excellent. Thanks, Jace!"

Jon was slumped in his seat and hitting himself in the forehead. "Jace, you idiot," he groaned. "You just _told _her."

"I— What?" Jace blinked, and I laughed. I just couldn't help myself.

"Thanks again, Jace! Well, I've gotta start heading off to classes. See you tonight!" I threw in a little wave for good measure and walked off. I could feel Jon's glare on my back, and was highly tempted to stick my tongue out at him.

_Clary: One, Jon: Zero. _Ouch. But get the hell used to it.

* * *

I had luck on my side this morning, but as usual, Satan seemed to creep into my ever-changing schedule. The arrangement of my classes changed every day, which I had a mixed love-hate relationship with. Sometimes, I was incredibly happy the order of my classes changed, so that I didn't have to deal with Kaelie until the end of the day, but other times, I had a feeling whoever set up the order of my classes wanted to see me suffer in either the Land of Permanent Annoyance From the Herondales or the Land of the Bitches.

And, of course, today was just one of those days where I'd spend half the day in the Land of Permanent Annoyance From the Herondales. Oh, joy. Not.

I stuffed my History book in my backpack. My first period today was History, taught by Hodge. Hodge's class actually had some pretty cool stuff in it and he did do genuinely interesting work in class with us, but guess who sat next to me? Jace. Of course he did. And Hodge had an assigned seating chart, but I swear on a stack of Bibles that I saw him smirking when he said that Jace was sitting next to me for practically the _whole year. _

I groaned as I walked to History. Normally, it wouldn't be half as bad sitting next to Jace in any other class because I technically wouldn't _have _to talk to him, but in Hodge's class, the person you sat next to was your partner for whatever wacky activity Hodge cooked up. And Hodge believed in not just reading things from a textbook for the whole class, so I spent the better part of the hour and a half talking to Jace. Not that I really _hated _talking to him, per se— Jace could actually be a decent guy if he put the effort into it— but he could be just so _annoying. _No, _infuriating _is a better word for it. Jace was incredibly infuriating. Must be that ego he had growing. I bet it had sprouted at least a foot since the last History class. _Just great, _I thought. Now I got to spend a hour and a half speaking nonsense to an ego.

Jace had gotten to Hodge's room before me. Damn him. I could see him smirking at me from the other side of the room. And _of course_ Hodge had to place us in the back, which meant Jace could get away with just about _anything._

Why, Hodge?

I sat down in my desk and busied myself putting my graffitied backpack (yes, that bloody RED still wasn't coming out) on the floor and taking out a pencil and my History notebook so I could avoid having to look at Jace for as long as I could delay that sort of thing.

"Hey, Red."

"Will you _stop _calling me that?" I snapped, finally turning to face him. "Do you want me to start calling you Yellow again?"

Jace held up his hands as a gesture of surrender, that cocky smirk still stuck on his face. I was dying to slap it off for him, but I decided that could be saved for later. "All right, all right, _Clary_. Keep your hair on."

"Thanks, _Jace_," I mimicked, and then remembered that I still had a few minutes before class started to coax as much information about what was happening tonight out of Jace as I could. Back to the Crap-At-Flirting Clary. "Hey, Jace, I have something to ask you."

"And what might that be?"

I ignored the thinly veiled innuendo in Jace's voice and continued on. "What's happening tonight?"

"Well. . ." Jace hesitated. "Jon doesn't want me to tell you."

I smiled what I hoped was an enticing smile. "Jon's not here now, is he? Besides, what could it hurt? It's not like I'm going to barge into your and Jon's room and stop whatever's going on tonight."

Jace crossed his arms. "No way, Clary."

I began to absentmindedly doodle all over a sheet of notebook paper. When I looked down, I realized they were that diamond symbol or rune or whatever. Before Jace could see (so he didn't blow up right before Hodge started class), I quickly ripped out the sheet and smushed it down at the very bottom of my backpack. "Please, Jace? I won't tell Jon."

Jace sighed, his golden eyes slightly tired. "It's really nothing, Clary. Just a little get-together. Jon was feeling bored. You know how he is."

Ugh. I sighed. "I guess I'll find out tonight, then, 'cause I'm going to be there."

Jace looked horrified. "Clary, no, you can't—"

Right as Jace launched into what was going to be the beginning of some kind of patronizing speech, Hodge started class. I threw Jace a gloating look, and he stiffened and hissed, "Clary, you are _not _going tonight. I don't care if I have to tie you up to Ella and make her stay in your guys' room. You're not going."

I mouthed, _Try me. I dare you _at Jace, and turned my attention back to Hodge.

". . . today, the warm-up with your partner will be a two person story about a historical event!" Hodge announced and I felt my stomach plummet. I had done these at every summer camp I had ever went to, and they always turned out to be disturbing and awkwardly revealing. With Jace, they'd turn out to be. . . not even going there. "Remember to switch whoever's writing every so often!"

Could I _please _skip this activity, Hodge?

Instead, I yanked out a fresh sheet of notebook paper and scribbled, _Once upon a time _and then passed it to Jace. Once I saw his smirk, I had a feeling that this was going to turn out very, very badly.

_Once upon a time _**there was a red-haired girl and a blonde boy. **_But they didn't get along because the blonde boy was extremely obnoxious and had an ego the size of Russia. _**Clary, stop lying. The blonde boy was usually described as hot, with luminous golden eyes, and he might've liked the redhead a little. **_No, the blonde boy was annoying. The ginger was a skilled artist and kept her distance from the boy. _**But she liked him too much to stay away. That's how charming the blonde boy was. **_Um. . . no. She actually ran screaming to Japan to get away from the annoying blonde boy and then punched Hodge in the nose. _**When did Hodge get involved in this lovers' debate? **_Shut up, Jace, and keep writing. _**Fine, Red. But the blonde boy really liked her, so he chased her to Japan. And she was very happy to see him, so she kissed him. **_ABSOLUTELY. NOT. SHE DID NOT KISS HIM. SHE SLAPPED THE CRAP OUT OF HIM BECAUSE HE WAS ANNOYING. _**And then she kissed him. **_NO SHE DIDN'T. She decided she would rather be a fish and jumped into the ocean to get away from the blonde boy. _**But he still chased after her. **_Fine. He chased after her but never found her. _**Stop changing the love story, Clary. He eventually found her and convinced her to stay with him. **_Not even close. But then she left him. _**No, you stayed with me. **_No, I didn't. I don't even like you, Jace. _**I think you do. That's why you keep talking to me. **_ . . . when did this become about us, exactly? _**The minute I met you. **_Just shut up, Jace. This is supposed to be a HISTORICAL story. _**Our love will be historical, because we won't leave each other. **_Oh. My. Effing. Jesus. Christ. I might just kill you. _**I always knew you were passionate. I'll be looking forward to it. **_Prepare for your demise, asshole. _**How swiftly you dismiss our love. **

Jace passed the paper back to me and I read what he'd written in absolute horror. _What the f— ? _Why, oh _why _did Hodge ever pair us together for _anything_ again?

Jace gave me a sly look, and snatched the paper back. **I've made Clarissa Morgenstern speechless!**

I prayed that Hodge would call time right about _now. _That would be nice. But no. I think Hodge wanted me to writhe in storms of pure annoyance and irritation, probably. Because he called, "Five more minutes!"

Five. More. Minutes. You've got to be _kidding_ me. I reached for the paper and scrawled, _Not even close. _

**A guy can hope. But on with the story, right? **_Fine. And it turned out the girl didn't love or like the boy at all. The End. _**Epilogue: The girl was under the influence of the evil sea witch, Ursula, and found the desolate boy many years later after only searching the world for him for about thirty years. **_When did The Little Mermaid get involved. . . ? _**Well, you and Ariel are both pretty. **_And you're a dick, which is sort of like Prince Eric. Onwards. _**And then she kissed him, just like you will tonight. **_WHAT is up with your obsession of kissing things?! And there's no way IN HEAVEN OR HELL that I'm kissing you tonight. On with the story. This topic is closed. Forever. _**Until you kiss me, that is. **_I'm officially done talking to you. _**Second Epilogue: And Clary and Jace lived happily ever after. And Will, aka Ursula, was banished to the darkest parts of the sea-kingdom. **_I think you're actually insane. Once again: When did this become about us and now Will, apparently? _**The day Will told me he liked you. **_Ummm. . . You're delusional, Jace. Have you been drinking? _**I'm sober and I'm being serious. **_And I've just been in Death Note. _**I don't know what you're talking about. But Will is actually serious about it. **

I closed my jaw at Jace's little confession, since it had been hanging. Will. . . _liked _me? Um, we're just friends. Sorry to disappoint you. I was about to write, _You're all jerks_ when Hodge went, "And. . . put down your paper!"

Damn! Right when I was about to write something, Hodge ended it. And Jace got the last word. Ugh. I settled for mouthing, _I don't believe you _and _You're all jerks _at Jace, who wrote, **How you wound me. **

"Who would like to read their historical story out loud?" came Hodge's voice, and Jace raised his hand. Oh. No. Don't. Even.

"Jace," I hissed, "put your hand down. _Now._"

Jace wiggled his eyebrows at me, his golden eyes lighting up. Okay, fine, he was right. His eyes _were _golden. . . and luminous. . . and sort of pretty. . . and. . . _what the hell am I doing?! _Thinking about Jace Herondale in a _positive _manner? Is there something wrong with me?! "No way, Clary. The class should know about our love."

He said it loudly enough so Aline and Helen, who were at the desks next to Jace and I, shared a look, and tried to hold in their giggles. I leaned across Jace and shot Aline a pleading look. "Look, it's not what it sounds like. . ."

"Sure, Clary." Aline dropped me a wink. "Just be careful."

My jaw dropped. "I'm not. . . I mean, we're not. . ."

"Mr. Herondale? Are you going to read yours out loud?" Hodge sounded confused.

Jace smirked, and said loudly, "Well, I would, if Clary would get off me first."

_That little son of a. . . _I couldn't think of a bad enough word to use. I detached myself from Jace, holding in a blush, and sat back in my seat, wishing I could crawl into a hole and die at this moment.

"Once upon a time," Jace began dramatically, "there was a boy and a girl. And. . ." Jace launched into the story, obviously editing out a few things. Instead of watching Jace, I stared at my lap so I wouldn't have to make intentionally awkward eye contact with him. When he was finished, the class clapped, and Jace bowed. How very. . . arrogant of him.

"Mr. Herondale," frowned Hodge, "that doesn't seem very historical."

"I'll prove it to you," promised Jace. "In a few years or so."

"Give or take a few centuries," I muttered to Jace once he was back in his seat.

Jace grinned widely. "Not even close, Clary. Let's try a few days and _then _a few years."

"I still hate you. FYI. Don't get your hopes up."

"Don't get _your _hopes up," Jace retaliated, and I glared frostily at him.

"My hopes are very low, and they are staying that way, thank you very much."

For the rest of class, I ended up having to discuss the World Wars with Jace, who made it impossible to do so because he kept injecting innuendos into every other sentence. Not to mention more unfortunate references to that horribly disturbing story we'd just written at the start of class.

Just in time, the bell rang, and I began to quickly pack up my stuff. Jace handed me my pencil, which had rolled off my desk, and said, "That story was pretty funny. But I wasn't kidding about Will."

I gave him a look and said archly, "I think you were."

"No, I wasn't. Sit with me at lunch and I'll prove it to you."

Well, damn son, that was smooth. I hesitated. I never really sat with Jace at lunch— I usually sat with Izzy and Ella— because Jace was typically off flirting up a storm with Kaelie, Camille, and Jessamine at the table with Will, Gabriel, Gideon, Jon, and Jem. But now that he had "broken up" with Kaelie, the Three Blondes transferred tables.

"I don't know, Jace." What if the Three Blondes _did _decide to sit at their old table today? Then that would be hell in a cafeteria.

"Don't you want to find out if I'm lying or not?" Jace asked sneakily as he followed me out Hodge's door.

"Well. . . I _am _curious," I admitted, then sighed heavily. "Oh, fine. I'll sit with you at lunch. Happy?"

Jace grinned, and I was stunned that he wasn't smirking already. "Yeah. I am, actually. I _knew_ you'd be too curious to resist. . . Just like how you are with me."

So he _could_ actually be a nice dude for once. Surprise, surprise.

Oh, there you are, Jace.

"See you at lunch, then," Jace said as he headed down one corridor.

"I guess," I called to his back as I went down the opposite hall for my science class. And then I remembered– Ella still had my blank (except for a few doodles) science homework.

Oops.

* * *

I found my foot tapping constantly during AP Chemistry, annoying the crap out of Camille, who was sitting behind me. Well, sorry, but deal with it. I don't know why but I was actually _excited _for lunch, which was bizarre. I mean, I was always for a break in the tedious classes at Idris, but more so than usual today. My stupid brain went, _Maybe it's Jace! _Not even going to think much about that. But I guess I'd have to, since I'd be sitting with him.

I dragged a hand through my curls as I walked into the cafeteria with my lunch. _What_ had prompted me to agree to this again? I was about to head over to the Jem-Jon-Will-Gabe-Gideon table, but Jace wasn't over there. Instead, he was sitting with Izzy and Ella. Well. This was. . . interesting.

"Hi," I said, sitting next to Jace (it was either that or sit next to Izzy or Ella and have all three of us awkwardly sitting on one side of the table with just Jace on the other).

"Oh, hey, Clare," Ella said absentmindedly. She dug around in her backpack for a minute, and then pulled out my drawn-all-over science homework. "Sorry. I hope you didn't have science yet. . . ?"

"Last period," I grumbled, stashing the paper in my binder. "At least Mr. Branwell takes late papers."

"I am sorry, though!" Ella protested. "I would've given it back to you earlier, but I, um, needed it for something."

"Needed Clary's science homework for what?" Jace put in, having just ended his conversation with Izzy. He sounded puzzled. "I mean, I've copied my fair share of papers, but—"

"It was _that _paper, Jace." Ella shared a look with him, and he stiffened.

"Oh. I get it."

I pulled out my sandwich and rolled my eyes. I was 100% sure I knew exactly what they were talking about, considering I'd heard their whole conversation. I was tempted to repeat that bit to them, but. . . no. Better save it.

Isabelle and Ella struck up a conversation about something I didn't think I really wanted to know about, and Jace pointed to Will. "See? He's looking for you."

Will wasn't paying attention to the conversation that was going on in front of him and his head was going slowly back and forth. He was looking for someone.

"My ass," I whispered to Jace. "He's looking for _you. _Since you guys usually all sit together and whatnot."

"No, _my _ass," Jace whispered back. "I have to go ask him about something."

"Be my guest." I watched Jace stalk over to where Will was sitting, then turned back to Izzy and Ella.

"Just wondering," Ella said cautiously, "but why is Jace sitting with us today? Not that I mind, it's just. . . doesn't he usually sit over there?" Ella nodded her head towards what I coined the "Jock Table."

"Long story short," I began, "Jace wanted to prove something to me."

"Prove what?" Isabelle asked, bewildered, twirling a long strand of her inky hair. Probably hoping to catch Jon's attention.

I sighed in defeat. "Jace believes that Will likes me. I think Jace is full of crap."

"Not necessarily," Ella replied steadily. "I'm Will's sister, and there's something different about him when you're around, Clary."

I scoffed. "Bull. Will and I are friends. Friends. End of story."

Isabelle belted out a loud laugh. "I've heard _that _one too many times."

I huffed, annoyed. I was being serious. . . Or at least I thought I was. Will and I were actually just friends. Depending on what Jace found out, I wasn't quite sure how long my mantra would stand. "I'm serious, Izzy."

"And so am I." The dark-haired girl gave me a knowing look. "I think you're both smitten."

"And I think that I'll just stand up on this table and yell to the whole school that _Isabelle Lightwood is in love with Jonathan Morgenstern!_"

"You _wouldn't_," breathed Isabelle.

Ella looked back and forth between us like it was a tennis match, a slow grin spreading over her face. "Iz, you like _Jon? How_ did I not know about this?"

Isabelle covered her face in her hands and hissed through her fingers, "I don't _love _him! I just admire his collection of white blonde hair and black eyes, and. . ."

And naturally, Jace chose that minute to stroll back over to where we were sitting. His eyes bugged out. "Izzy loves _who?_"

"I'm not talking to you, Jace!" Isabelle wailed. "I don't _love _anyone!"

Ella smirked. "At least, not yet."

"_Yet? _Who?" Jace sat down next to me. "Is it Will? Jem? Yours truly?"

"Ew, God no, Jace! You're like my _brother, _first of all. And Jem is dating Tessa and Will is like my other brother!"

"Gabe? Gideon? Jon?" guessed Jace, playing with his food.

"Jesus, Jace! Gabe and Gideon are both practically taken!"

"It's Jon," I whispered to Jace, who looked like he'd explode with triumph.

"Isabelle Lightwood, _in love?" _

"Jace, you're getting it later," snapped Isabelle. "Don't talk so loud."

"What are we, in second grade?" Jace said, exasperated. "You use men as toys, Isabelle, why don't you go and ask him out?"

"I don't know!" Isabelle leaned across the table and slapped Jace's arm. "I guess I can go talk to him, though. . ."

Ella encouraged Isabelle, and I turned to face Jace. "What were you asking Will about, Jace?"

Jace waved it off, his golden eyes tight for some unknown reason. "I was right about the Ursula— err, Will— theory, though."

"You're such a liar, Jace." I took a sip from my water bottle. "Cut the crap. And also cut those awful story references. I don't want to hear anything about that bloody story from History ever. Again."

"Good luck with _that_, Clary," smirked Jace. He pulled out a paper and waved it in the air. "I have it _right here._"

"_What?!_" I half-shouted. I was torn between something like _horrified _and _stunned_. "You said you threw that thing _away. . . !_"

"I'm not only good at the art of seduction, but also lying." Jace tossed me a much too flirtatious wink. "And think of who else would want to hear our story?"

"No one else," I got out from between my teeth, reaching for the paper. I had a feeling that if that bloody paper got passed around the school, the Three Blondes would never, _ever _let up. And it's not like I wanted to be bullied because they suddenly got the idea that Jace liked me better than he liked them because of that paper. "Now give me the paper!"

"I'd like you to try, Red," Jace smirked. And just like that, he had the paper _and _that blasted nickname!

"I think I will, _Yellow_," I snapped, smacked his arm, and reached frantically for the paper.

Too bad Jace was about a foot taller than me, though. He held it far above his head while all I could manage was to slap his arm in hopes of him dropping the paper. I didn't realize how close I was to Jace until my eyes darted to his face and found his golden gaze fastened on me. I also then realized that I was pressed against him. And then I noticed that at some point his arm had come down and I had the paper in my hand.

_First thing Clary: sit back in your seat. _

_Second thing, Clary: Put said paper in your backpack. _

_And third thing: Take a big step away from Jace. _

I detached myself from Jace so I wasn't pressed up against him, and I admit that half my brain really didn't want to. Because part of me was going, _Dude, what are you doing? He's hot! _while the other part was screaming something like, _Get the hell AWAY from him! _

Maybe you can understand my dilemma?

I crumpled the paper in my hand and stuffed it into the darkest recesses of my backpack— namely the rock bottom where other random things I hoped to never see again had their burials. And then I scooted to the edge of my seat so I wasn't as close to Jace as I had been.

If I hadn't known better, I would've said Jace looked almost disappointed. On the opposite side of the cafeteria, Will was staring at us, his eyes narrowed and his mouth hammered in a line. Could Jace possibly have been _right? _

Yeah, in a world where the sky was purple and made out of hedgehogs. Har-de-har-har.

I leveled a gloating look at Jace, who looked remarkably unruffled considering the circumstances. Izzy and Ella were staring at us, their mouths slightly open, and I felt my face flare red. Crap. I'd forgotten Iz and Ella were there. Screw that— I'd forgotten the entire _cafeteria _was still there, which was a frightening prospect when Jace was involved.

"Clary? Did you just. . . ?" Ella stared at me. I'd ranted to her for hours on how annoying I thought the Herondale boys were, and she knew it. And here I was, I don't know. . . _fraternizing with the enemy _as Ron Weasley would say.

"I was getting the paper." I pointed to my backpack and shot Ella a look that said, _We'll talk about this later. _

"Right," Izzy drawled, drawing out the "i" sound. I scowled at her.

"And now you have our love story," Jace sighed, breaking the silence between us. "Well, screw me."

"Maybe later," I retaliated sarcastically.

Izzy's and Ella's mouths fell open even further, and Izzy looked like she'd dislocated her jaw. "_Love story?!" _

"It's a long story, involving Hodge and Jace being his crazy self," I sighed, rolling my eyes at Jace.

"It is the story of our love," declared Jace with a huge smirk, loudly enough for Will, who was pausing at the trashcan, to hear. Poor Will nearly fell into the trash.

"No, it's not, you idiot!" I exclaimed. "I don't even like you, Jace. No offense. So I'm sure that means that I don't love you."

"Yeah." Isabelle squinted at us. "I think there's anything _but _love between the two of you."

"The tragic tale as old as time," Jace said dramatically, one hand over his heart. "Unrequited love."

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure I'll end up like Juliet if I keep hanging around you," I grumbled.

"So, does that mean you'll not only fall in love with _this _but shag me as well?" Jace sounded slightly seductive.

"Never in a million years." I fixed him with a glare.

"Persistent," Jace remarked. His golden eyes sought mine, then refocused on Will, who looked royally pissed. "Let's check that little assumption in a few months."

My mouth fell open. Did Jace Herondale really think he could get _me_ to fall in love with _him?_

Yes. Yes, he did.

And I'm completely certain it was his ego speaking.

* * *

That night, I watched Ella line her dark blue eyes with eyeliner and fluff her hair the way girly-girls did. Hm. I didn't think Ella had it in her. For one second, I wondered where she was going, and then I remembered: the thing in Jon's and Jace's room tonight.

And I was _so _going. If Jace and Jon wanted me to stay home, they'd have to throw me in the pits of the ninth circle of hell first.

"Hey, Ella, you're going to Jon's and Jace's room, right?" I asked, making sure I wasn't too far off the mark.

"Yeah. Wait— how do you know about that?" Ella's voice sounded pinched. Worried.

"Oh, that." I tried to make it sound silly and inconsequential. "Jace invited me this morning at breakfast. He even told me the time and where it was. Nice of him, don't you think?" I steamrolled on without waiting for an answer. "Do I have to dress up for it or anything? Who's going to be there?"

"Whoa there, Clary. Take it down a notch," giggled Ella, her mood changing quickly. "No, you don't have to dress up. I'm just doing all this because I wanted to. And I don't know who's going. Just the usual gang, I suppose."

"Oh. Okay. Are we leaving now?"

"Sure, why not?"

I'd heard that phrase one too many times from Ella, and it usually occurred when things like drugs, alcohol, parties, or anything else that was either straight out dangerous or potentially dangerous were involved. Suddenly, the thought came to me, and I cursed myself. Ella was probably so excited to leave because there was going to be. . . the stuff she liked there. I swore quietly to myself.

We crossed the hall quickly to Jace's and Jon's room. There was music set at a slightly low volume, and clouds of people were already there.

Jessamine slammed into me, spilling her drink on my shoes, and sneered. "Watch where you're going, you bitch."

"Watch where _you're _going," I snapped back. "You were the one who spilled your drink on me _and_ slammed into me."

In the midst of this, Ella had melted into the crowd of people. _Dammit. _I had to stay by her side all night. No way was she using on my watch, because that would hurt Ella and I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that if Ella shot up, I'd be following in her footsteps. Not only was that awful in itself, but this wasn't just a girls' sleepover. It wasn't just me, Izzy, and Ella who were awake anymore. Will, Jace, and Jon were all here, and they'd all three murder me for using drugs. And then Will would panic over Ella. And. . . yeah. Overall moral of my thoughts: Keep Ella away from drugs.

I pushed past Jessamine, who tried to trip me with an irritated huff. I sidestepped her stiletto-clad foot and set off into the swarm of people to find Ella.

I caught a glimpse of glossy black hair standing near the corner of the room. "Ella?" I called over the music.

The person turned around. Black hair, blue eyes, graceful mouth. . . Will. My shoulders slumped. "Hey, Clary."

"Sorry," I apologized. "I thought you were Ella."

"Next time, just remember that _I'm_ the beautiful one," winked Will, and I found myself laughing.

"I'll keep that in mind, Will." My gaze shot to the bottle in his hand. "Did you just. . . ?"

"No," Will said firmly, his blue eyes glimmering. "I just took it to make me look. . ."

"Normal," I finished, and took the bottle of wine out of his hands, putting it on a random table that happened to be next to us.

"Exactly. Clary, do you think they'd think I'm odd because I'm not. . . you know, drinking, or doing anything?"

"Will. Don't be ridiculous. Why would anyone think that?" I smiled at him. "Drinking is weak. You're being strong."

"Thanks. I needed that."

"Anytime. Really." I paused for a moment. "Have you seen Ella anywhere, though?"

Will frowned, running a hand through his hair as his gaze shot around the room. I followed his line of vision and spotted Kaelie, Jem, Cecily, and Gideon, but Ella was nowhere to be seen. Damn. "No, sorry, Clary. Why?"

I inhaled deeply. "I'm just. . . scared for her, Will. She's frightening me. Remember that time all us girls went over to Izzy's? I wasn't the only one that did drugs there."

Will was quiet for a minute, and then, "I gathered that."

"No. I mean, Cecily, Tessa, and Sophie did nothing at all. It was me, Ella, and Isabelle. We were the ones that did it all."

Will gasped once, sharply. "_Clary!_ You said you only did a little. Why did you lie to me?"

I fiddled with my shirt, looking anywhere but the boy standing in front of me. "Look, Will, I'm really sorry. I lied. I lied a big one. It wasn't a little. . well. . . or was it? I can't remember. Everything went blurry after I got high. Ella did the most heroin, though. Isabelle did a mixture. Alcohol and pot, I know. Something that had hallucinatory side effects. . ."

"Raziel," Will breathed. "Clary, I bet you did a hell of a lot more than you think you did."

I remembered the warm, fuzzy feeling. So that was what it felt like to be relaxed, unworried, unstressed, and happy. All my cares had vanished. For one heartbeat, I felt myself wishing for it again, and I shoved the urge out. _No. Snap out of it, Clary. _"Will, you _have_ to help me. I can't stop thinking about it now! And Ella's off somewhere, and now I'm not just scared for Ella anymore. . . I'm terrified of myself."

"Clary." I felt Will's gentle hand on my chin, lifting it up so I had to look him in the eye. "You're going to be okay. I promise." He released my chin, and I rubbed a hand against my eyes. _No tears. No crying. Don't cry. _I thought back to that one day in Brooklyn, right after the first time I'd been bullied, where I had cried a waterfall. I'd wiped my eyes with the cheap, scratchy school paper towels and swore never to cry again.

"I'm sorry," I heard myself saying. "I just. . . never mind. It's nothing no one really wants to hear about anyways."

"I do. Someday. But for now, let's go find Ella." Will's voice changed so it was tight with worry. I felt the anxiety rising inside of me— the exaggerated anxiety of—

I cut myself off. I wasn't going there. I was staying far away from there. It was last year, years ago, worlds ago. I was nothing there. "Right. Let's go find Ella."

We searched all over the room, and no matter how many times we looked in the same place, Ella just wasn't there. We looked in the oddest places— under the beds, in the closet, behind every corner and nook and cranny. Around midnight, Will and I got desperate. We patrolled up and down the corridor, looked in the bathroom, and began to ask people if they'd seen a black-haired, blue-eyed girl anywhere. No one had an answer for us. I'd asked Jon several times, and kept seeing something black on his hand, but didn't have time to look at it. And strangely enough, Jon was completely sober. . . Weird.

But the later it got, the more and more drugs and alcohol were brought out. I could see Will fighting against the pull of the alcohol and whatever else he'd done, and I was battling my way through my memories of my heroin haze. Will's hands began to twitch with his resistance, and I felt myself beginning to give in. Every time I saw someone with a needle, their eyes rolled back in their head in pleasure, I had to slap myself to keep myself in reality.

"Do you want to keep looking or get out of here?" Will gritted out.

I wanted to keep looking, but I had a feeling I'd succumb to the irresistible pull of my high if we stayed. The final straw was seeing Jace and Kaelie in a corner of the room, wrapped around each other like snakes. For some reason, I felt betrayed, which was stupid of me. I _knew _that Jace was a player. I _knew _that his weakness was Kaelie. And I _definitely_ knewthat we weren't dating. I didn't like Jace, and I was pretty damn sure the feeling was mutual. But I couldn't help the small gasp at the horrifying sight. Now I _really _wanted to go and have a good cry. I told that part of me to shut the hell up.

Will noticed what I'd seen. His mouth tightened, his arm went around my waist, and he led me out of the room. Once we were out in the hallway, he took a deep breath. The fumes of alcohol and drugs weren't as prominent out there, and I felt my head clearing.

"Clary, I'm sorry. About Jace." Will's voice was soft yet angry.

I looked away at the door to my room. "It's nothing. I expected it. Besides, we all know that Jace and I were never dating, no matter what he spouted around school, and that Jace is an asshole anyways."

I heard the small smile in Will's voice. "You've got my jerk of a cousin figured out."

I sighed. I felt so tired after all of that. "Will, I think I'm going to turn in."

"Me too. I need to get away from all of that," Will agreed. "See you tomorrow, Clary."

He strode over to his room, which wasn't very far away, but as I was punching in the code to my room, something occurred to me, and I facepalmed. _I'm so stupid._

"Will, wait!" I shouted after him.

He spun around, staring at me. "What?"

"Will, I just thought— we've been looking in all the wrong places for Ella. What if she was right in our room all this time?"

Will began to laugh softly. "Clary, you're a genius," he told me, and his brow furrowed. "I bet she went in your guys' room because she wanted some place to do her precious heroin" —his voice went sour— "and somewhere we wouldn't look. Two birds with one stone, as they say."

I punched in the code at lightning speed. Before I had time to think about what would happen if we did find Ella in there, Will had torn the door open and we were staring in horror at the girl on one of the beds inside.

Ella.

She looked half-mad— or just extremely high. Needles and little bottles of heroin surrounded her, and I felt my hands begin to shake. No. No, I wasn't doing heroin. . . or was I? The little phantom voices in my head began to try and persuade me all over again, and I found myself shaking my head.

Ella pushed the needle in and sank back onto her bed with a sigh. Her eyeliner was smeared all over her face, and her hair seemed to be tangled in one big knot. By the redness of her eyes, among other things, it was obvious heroin wasn't the only thing she had done— or was doing.

I looked over at Will. He was paralyzed, staring at his sister in absolute horror. I took in hand, squeezed it quickly, and let it go, stepping over to Ella.

"Clare," she slurred, half-delirious. "Why aren't you here with me?"

I knelt down so I was eye level with her and slapped the needle out of her hand. "Ella, _why?_"

Will unfroze and began to nimbly collect all the drugs. He looked like he was going to throw them in the trash in our room.

"Don't," I said to him, thinking quickly. "Either she's going to do them or I might."

"Right." Will sounded numb as he slipped into Jon's and Jace's room to dump the drugs in there.

"What did you do tonight?" I asked Ella quietly. I wanted to be furious with her, to scream out my frustration, to cry, to get myself out of here. But I couldn't find the energy to do any of that.

"Why didn't you do any of them with me?" demanded Ella.

"Ella, you know damn well I don't do drugs," I told her, but my protests sounded feeble to my own ears. But after the festering thoughts of heroin tonight, I was starting to rethink my statement.

"Do you?" Ella sounded like her high was ending, and I felt a pang of pity for her once she realized the drugs weren't there anymore.

Will arrived back into the room, his face whiter than a sheet. "How is she?"

"Coming back into the Land of the Sober." I watched Will carefully. "It's going to take a fair bit of time, though."

I sat on the floor by Ella's bed, and Will sat next to me. Since when did this all get so hard to deal with? My life used to be simple, at least compared to this great big tangle. Simon, bullying, school, parents. The end. Now it was Will, Jace, Ella, Isabelle, school, Jonathan, drugs, alcohol, will I be caught, am I becoming addicted, and more. I could go on for hours about a list of my life and I wouldn't be half done.

"Are _you _all right, Clary?"

I turned my head to look at Will. His dark eyes were burning with anger, worry, and a fire I hadn't noticed before. I looked away, staring at my Sailor Moon poster on the other side of the room. "Fine. I'm fine. You?"

"Could be better." I heard Will sigh heavily. "How's Ella doing?"

I twisted around to look at her. A strange expression had bloomed out over her face, and she was dead asleep.

"Sleeping, I think. Which is probably for the better."

"Good." Will sounded satisfied. "Clary, you should sleep too."

"I can't possibly. . ." But even as I spoke the words, I felt a wave of pure exhaustion slice over me. As my eyes closed, I felt Will's arm go around me, his thumb calmly rubbing my shoulder. The last thing I thought of was the black thing on Jon's hand— up until now, I hadn't realized it was a stark, black eye.

* * *

**Okay, fast update (for me, at least)! Woohoo! I really wanted to get this chapter cranked out and posted before school starts up again, because once Spring Break ends, I'll have pretty much only the weekends to write :( Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm pretty mad too. **

**Ella's gone OOC again. But like I keep saying, she has her bloody reasons. . . which are to be revealed soon. What do you think about the Clary x Will fluff? And that odd story between Clary and Jace that I had so much fun writing? (I've actually just done one of those, ironically enough. And it was just as disturbing as Clace's.) Originally, I was going to make this a Clace story. . . But Clary x Will is now taking up a fair share of mind mind! Team Clace or Team. . . I don't know. . . Clary x Will? lol. **

**Happy Almost Last Day of Spring Break, guys. . . *sobs* Can I just be "sick" on Monday? And like every time something ends in "day?" You know. Student Syndrome. Effects millions every year, and I've caught it. **

**Also guys, I was about to stop this chapter where Will and Clary found Ella. . . Decided I shouldn't be so cruel for ONE chapter. You're welcome. **

**Knives are sharp and hatful: Haha yep. I'm glad I got the creepy part down ;) Thanks for reviewing!**

**Littlemisslaugh: Oh, you'll find out very soon XD Thank you so much! And here's that new chapter :) Thanks for the review!**

**Guest: Omg, thank you so much! I'm really super happy you like it! Here's the update :) Thank you for reviewing!**

**ClaryElena: I love them too, and now I can't decide between them and Clace! Ahhhh! Thanks for the review :D**

**Morning and Eve: Oh yeah, Clary just might be ;) haha I'm so so happy you like the chapter! Yep I'm in love with Will too. . and Jace. . . haha. Thanks for your review ;)**

**Justbeautifulme33: Omg I am SO GLAD you like this fanfic so much! That was part of my goal— to make people laugh— and I'm happy I finally got it XD I love Will too haha. Definitely keeping Will x Clary in this fanfic for the moment :) But. . . Clace is just amazing. Like. . . gahhhh can't explain any of my favorite ships! This update is a bit fluffy, but more fluff is on the horizon :) Thanks a billion for your review!**

**Vannaluv: Thank you so much! You'll find out that soon :) I'm glad you like the fluff! Thanks for reviewing :D**

**OneoftheNephilim: Thank you! And thanks for the review :)**

**Toasty: Oh my God. I can't. I just laughed my head off again while reading that. . . ! hahahaha. Just think of that Willy HP post. . . dying. Thanks so much! Cliffies are the best, though! At least I saved you from one in this chapter. . . Or did I? *chuckles evilly* Is your toast burnt all the way yet? I can spare some butter btw. PS: Clary, not Clara. . . Clara makes me think of Great Expectations. haha. Thanks for reviewing!**


	7. Chapter 7: Fights and Secrets

**DISCLAIMER: no. **

**This chapter's title isn't very accurate. . . It should probably be called something like "That Big Reveal You've All Been Waiting For." Hint hint. **

**Chapter Seven: Fights and Secrets**

* * *

_Lately I been, I been losing sleep_

_Dreaming 'bout the things that we could be_

_But baby, I been, I been prayin' hard_

_Said no more counting dollars_

_We'll be counting stars_

—OneRepublic, "Counting Stars"

* * *

I woke up with a gasp, burying my face deeper into a shoulder, the person's arm wrapped snugly around my waist. And then it hit me.

_What. The. Hell?! _

I scrambled backwards, smashed my back into something, and settled for putting a few feet between me and the person I'd fallen asleep on, which would happen to be. . . Will. My face heated up, even though I knew it was stupid of me to blush. Luckily, he wasn't up yet. . . good.

But _why _had I fallen asleep with Will in the first place? I searched through the previous day, trying to remember, and. . .

Well, crap. The "thing" that I'd been so determined to go to. And it turned out to be one big effing party that I hadn't even found out anything about! I wanted to scream in frustration until a new tidal wave of memories hit me. Ella. Crap, crap, crap. Will and I were looking for her after nearly losing it to the alcohol and drugs in the room, and we only left because. . .

Jace.

Jace and Kaelie.

Right.

I'd actually forgotten about that for one ignorance-is-bliss moment. The burning pressure of tears reminded me that I was two things: a) stupid and b) even stupider for wanting to cry about it. There were a billion things more important than my petty problems— like Ella.

Ella. Oh God.

I whipped around to face the bed she was on, and. . .

God damn it. She wasn't there! And I couldn't help it— I panicked. I turned to Will, who was still sleeping, and shook him gently.

His eyelashes fluttered until the blue of his eyes were glaring at me. "The hell, Clary?" Will snapped, his voice thick with sleep.

"Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep," I replied acidly. I could already feel my heart racing faster with fear. Where had Ella gone? What if she'd gone and gotten more drugs? The thought sent anxiety shuddering through my bones. "But in case you haven't noticed, William, Ella's gone."

Will's eyes shot wide open. "_What?!_" He whirled around, staring at the empty bed behind him. For the first time, he looked frightened. "Clary, Ella has. . . problems. That's the best way to explain it, I guess. When her problems resurface, she goes off and. . ." Will trailed off, but I got the message crystal-clear. So Ella was probably off doing more drugs.

"Do you know where she is, Will? We have to go find her!"

Will was shaking his head. "Clary—"

"Will. Are you _mad?_ This is your _sister _we're talking about!"

Will's face held a depth of pain I couldn't fathom. He opened his mouth, closed it, and was silent for a minute before he spoke. When he did speak, he sounded a million years older. "Clary, listen to me. I know that, and I care deeply about Ella. I've never been so worried for her in my life. But the thing is, when Ella doesn't want to be found, she can't be found. And it's a school day."

I choked. This day sucked ass. So Ella, who was probably one of my best friends, was _missing _and I was ten minutes shy of being late to my first period class. "Oh, my God. Are you kidding me?"

Will looked steadily back at me, although I could see the worry flickering in and out of him like sound vibrations in the air. "It's Tuesday."

One word filled my mind and my mouth. It was a word I didn't like to think about— it was four letters long and started with a f. Three guesses for the mystery word of the day. Or probably of the week. Or it was even more likely that it'd be for the rest of the freaking year.

I was cursing fluently as I threw random articles of clothing out on my bed, already dragging a brush through my hair.

"As much as I don't mind a little skin," smirked Will, "I should get going. See you, Clary."

I waved to Will as he let himself out, shutting the door behind him. Just like that, Decent Will was gone and Obnoxious Will was back. I sighed as I finished getting dressed. I knew my clothes didn't match, that I'd forgotten my homework for today probably, and that my hairstyle was called "And I Didn't Brush My Teeth Either", but I didn't really care. At least I thought I didn't until I walked into my first period class, AP Chemistry.

Have you ever styled this outfit you thought was incredibly cute, but then the second you get to school, the first thought in your mind is, _Why did I think this was a good idea again? _

That's how I sort of felt. Except in my case, it didn't involve a cute outfit or even a semi-cute one. When I set foot in that bloody classroom, I could hear the titters from my classmates— except for Jem and Cecily, who shot my sympathetic looks. I went to sit in my seat, except Jessamine was already sitting there. So I stood there like an idiot until the teacher, Mr. Malachi, cleared his throat loudly and conspicuously.

He glared at me. "So nice of you to join us today, Miss Morgenstern."

"Thanks," I snapped back sourly. I knew that it was bad news to talk back to teachers, but Malachi was a dick and I'd had enough today already. . . And it was only 7:55 in the morning.

Malachi's mouth thinned. "You sit right there, Miss Morgenstern." He pointed quickly to the seat next to Jem. It was also right behind Jessamine. Crap.

I tried to smooth down the rat's nest living on my head as I went down the aisle between the rows of desks. Jessamine stuck her foot out and I kicked her in the shin. Hard. I heard her yelp in pain, and I knew I was going to pay for that later, but I couldn't find the energy to give a crap.

I sat down in my seat and Jem whispered, "What happened?"

I made sure Malachi had started talking— _droning_ is more like it— to reply. "I'll tell you later. Lunch, okay?"

Jem nodded and turned his attention back to Malachi. Although he didn't really need to— Jem's notes were perfect. I bet he was smarter than Malachi himself.

I tried to take notes, but I couldn't bring myself to concentrate. Sorry, Malachi, but I think Ella is more important than whether I scrawl down every single word you say. Would Ella be okay? What if something. . . happened? I got the feeling that when Ella did drugs, she never really considered the consequences of her actions. I knew the feeling— like you were in a dream, so whatever you did couldn't possibly have any repercussions.

The whole class was spent by Malachi droning on about some kind of lab we were going to do soon, which I gladly ignored. I hated labs. I mean, I liked science, but nothing I was ever interested in was studied in high school science classes. I was doodling random little things on my paper— my symbols— and the majority of the class was on their phones, texting or social media-ing up a storm. Jem was drawing music notes on a staff on the back of his paper, and across the room, Cecily was messing around with her nails and ignoring Camille, who sat next to her.

The bell rang, and I nearly jumped out of my seat– I'd been that far away in la-la land. I was about to ask Cecily what Malachi had covered in the first twenty minutes or so of class I wasn't there for, but Jessamine cornered me first.

"Hey, Clarissa, can I speak to you?" Jessamine's voice was sickly sweet. Barf. Gritting my teeth, I turned around slowly to face the blonde girl.

"What do you want, Jessamine?" I spat from between my teeth.

"I wanted to talk to you about your little stunt in class." Jessamine's voice had taken on a poisonous tone. Part of me was telling me to run like hell was on my heels, but the other part wanted to stay and fight. So I stayed.

"My little 'stunt'?" I laughed shortly.

"I'll let you know that no one can get away with anything like that, you bitch," sneered Jessamine.

I knew I should've been used to being called a bitch, considering all the things that happened at my old school— which I'd sorta-kinda-not really repressed— but the name still stung a little. I shrugged. "Takes one to know one, Jessamine."

Jessamine leaned closer to me and I found myself taking an unconscious step back. "You think you know everything, don't you, _bitch?_" The emphasis stung like a slap across the face. I looked around for a friendly face, and saw no one in the small crowd that was watching.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Jessamine smirked. "God, you're stupid, Clarissa. You don't know the way things work around here. But don't worry, we'll show you soon enough. Maybe you'll be forgiven once you learn your place here at Idris High— which is at my feet."

I snapped. My strained self-control on my hefty temper rebounded in on myself, and I literally saw red around the edges of my vision. I tried to stop the words from coming out of my mouth, by it was like my brain had been cut off from the rest of my body. From far away, I hear myself laugh mirthlessly. "Jessamine, _who_ do you think you _are?_ You— and all the rest of your robotic minions— think you're so clever, don't you, but in reality, you all act like little bitchy girls who whine and complain because they believe they're entitled to everything. What monster brought _you_ up? Pull your _head_ out of your fricking _ass _and wake up. It's not that hard for most of us, since we have brains. But, oh wait, I forgot— you don't _have_ a brain. That's right." I heard all the words spew out in a decidedly malicious tone, and knew I was being horrible, but I couldn't stop. My temper and my "way with words" as my mother called it had gotten me into more trouble than I could count. And now it was about to get me into trouble again.

Jessamine jerked backwards. I could see a slight tinge of hurt and a whole lot of anger fill up her face. "Do you know who you're even speaking to?"

"See, there she goes again," I said coldly, addressing the growing crowd of spectators. _Stop it, Clary, stop it! _I pleaded with myself, but the words wouldn't stop. "What an asshole. Isn't she?"

Okay, it was definitely hurt in Jessamine's face this time. And I didn't know why, but it was oddly satisfying. That thought alone scared me to no end. But. . . I couldn't stop.

My voice took a turn for the worst from cold to cruel. "Hurts, doesn't it, _Jessie? _Are you going to start crying? No, wait, I can just see the story the next day at school: _Clary Verbally Beats Up the School Slut, Jessamine! _I _dare_ you to tell everyone that. But make sure to tell them how you and your bitches have been tormenting me first. What a—"

I felt my mind slip slowly back into its place and I snapped my jaw together, abruptly frozen and absolutely horrified at myself. What had I _said?_ And what I had I _done?_

I took a quick glance around the cloud of bystanders. Some of them had their mouths gaping open. Others looked delighted. And Camille and Kaelie looked absolutely pissed.

My eyes turned back to Jessamine, who was staring at me.

"I. . ." My voice cracked humiliatingly. For once in my life, I didn't know what to say. It was like my mind had been wiped blank; as clean as a slate. My next breath came out in a hard rush. "I have to get out of here."

And then, under the scrutiny of seemingly the whole school, I turned and fled.

_Ella's not the only one who has "problems." _

* * *

I didn't know where I was running. All I knew was that I wanted out of there. Suddenly, it had all seemed like too much— the students closing in on Jessamine and me gave me a swift sense of claustrophobia. Not to mention I felt horrible for what I'd said to Jessamine. But at the same time, part of me didn't regret it at all.

I sat underneath the shade of a large tree in a remote part of the grounds. It was a weeping willow— a crying tree. How ironic. The good thing was that the branches curved down and around me so no one could really see me. Which was perfect, because no way in hell did I ever want to be found now. The bad things were that I was cutting class, so that would probably result in a nice little detention for me (and then a very Valentine sort of explosion) and that red hair makes, in no way, a good camouflage, so screw me.

I squinted at the very few students that did choose to mill around my secret hiding spot. Maia and Isabelle wandered through the area, Isabelle's heels clacking on the slender strip of stone path that weaved through the center of it all. Then I saw Jem and Tessa a few minutes later, their hands linked together. I smiled in spite of myself; they were just too darn cute together.

The last people I saw before the next class started up were Jace and Jonathan. I stiffened in my tree as one of them looked my way. An image flashed into my mind: the eye on Jonathan's hand. I'd forgotten about that too, but if I narrowed in on his swinging hand, I could see a bold black mark on it. I was _dying _to know what that rune thingy meant. Maybe Ella would know. No, she knew. Besides. . . wasn't she one of them? The only thing about Ella is that she'd only tell you stuff like that when she was either high or drunk. When she was completely sober, Ella wouldn't dare say a word about any of this sinister "Shadowhunter" business.

_Once Ella turns up, I'll ask her about it, _I promised, then froze again. But. . . didn't she already tell me?

She did. She did tell me, and it was when she was high, that time at Izzy's party. I could practically see the damn scene playing out before my eyes: Me, asking Ella who the Shadowhunters were. And then her answer: _The Shadowhunters are _us. And then how freaked out I felt. And then. . .

"Oh, my God," I whispered to myself. "Oh my God."

I knew exactly what the rune was and what it meant. After all, Ella had told me herself.

_"We're all Shadowhunters." She thrust her left hand at me. "You're a Shadowhunter if you have this."_

_I stared at the back of her hand. Inked onto it was a bold, ebony eye._

And Jon had one now. So did that mean. . . ?

I caught myself nodding to my thoughts in absolute horror. So Jon was one of them. And hadn't Will said, on the conversation I eavesdropped on in the common room, that the Shadowhunters were the "bad kids"? I wasn't sure what that meant, but hell, was I ever going to find out.

"I can't believe Clary actually came," Jon muttered, and I freaked completely. I hadn't realized that Jon and Jace had moved off the beaten path and were coming right towards the tree. The very same tree that I was practically a sitting duck (No pun intended) under. They were going to come and sit under the tree. I had to get the hell out of here. _Now. _

Or did I? I didn't really have to desert my comfortable location, just stay out of their sight. . . Right?

I quickly stood up as quietly as I could manage. I had to think of something fast, because Jon and Jace were coming closer and closer and I was still standing there like a statue. It was a wonder they hadn't caught me yet, considering my hair looked like someone had set my head on fire.

As they approached one of the branches, I darted around to the back of the tree. _Think Clary, think! _Today was _not _going to be the day where Jon and Jace caught me listening in as they carried out their conversation. Not only would Jon take on his murderous qualities, but I'd lose all trust they had in me, let alone any. And then it'd spread through the grapevine and I'd find myself back at stage one with no answers at all.

Then what I could do occurred to me and I wanted to hit myself over the head very hard. I was right under a freaking tree. And you can climb trees. Good God. Jon and Jace were almost under the tree, still talking, so from the opposite side that they were on, I reached for the lowest branch. I tried to silently swing myself up on it, but instead managed to stab myself in the stomach with another branch and found myself rolling like a sloth on the branch I was trying to sit on. The perks of being five-foot-nothing right here.

_Sloth Grip Roll to avoid Bludgers, _I found myself thinking and almost laughed out loud. Too bad I didn't have a Firebolt like Harry so I could get the hell out of here. This was not the time to be making jokes to myself, which proved my lack of a social life. It was especially not the time to laugh or make any noise considering that Jon and Jace were _right on the other side of the tree._

". . . so apprehensive about your sister going, anyways?" I heard from Jace as I tuned into their conversation. At the same time, I heard the branch I was clinging to give a little creak as I rotated myself to a sitting position. Did Jon and Jace hear that? If so, I was dead with a capital D.

The branch creaked again. _Shut the hell up, you blasted tree, _I wanted to snarl at it. As I stood on it, preparing to climb up a bit higher, it creaked yet _again_.

"_What_. . . is that noise?" Jon muttered. _Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit. _I was cursing like there was no tomorrow in my head as I quickly heaved myself up to the next branch.

"Just answer the question, Jonathan," Jace sighed, and I relaxed slightly now that I was higher up. "It's not like she did any harm, from what I gathered. Besides, the ceremony went on before the actual party itself."

They had to be kidding.

No, they _weren't_ kidding, dammit! So I had missed the good stuff that led to answers and ran into all the bad stuff because I thought the answers were going to be at the party?! (If that makes any sense.) I wanted to scream. No, I wanted to jump down from the tree and scare the bullcrap out of both of them by telling them that I knew what they were trying to hide from me. (I knew about half of it, but. . . pssssh, technicalities.)

Unfortunately, I couldn't scream or frighten Jon and Jace at the moment. I had to stay put and figure out what they were talking about.

"I want Clary to stay out of all this," Jonathan said firmly. He sounded weary. "I don't care if our parents are very closely tied into the Shadow World or if they were but left or whatever batshit happened. Clary must stay out of this."

"Jon, that's not realistic. At all. You know that, right? That Clary's going to get involved." Jace sounded just as exhausted as Jon did. What had they been doing that was making them so tired?

"I don't care if it's not realistic," Jon snapped. "Clary is _not _getting involved. End of story."

"Look, dude. . . She's already gotten involved. We have to tell her at some point, because Clary's already snooping around for answers. What happens if someone feeds her the wrong information? Not to mention, she doesn't know _how_ to protect herself or _who_ to protect herself from."

Protect myself? _What. . . ?_

It sounded like Jon had slid down the tree trunk. I hovered on my branch in anticipation of what he was going to say.

"Fine," Jon relented. He didn't sound nearly as weary any longer. "But I don't want _you _telling her."

"Why not?" Jace sounded bewildered, as though there was no reason in the universe that had ever occurred to him of why he shouldn't be the one to tell me.

_I don't care who tells me, dammit! Just someone do it! _I wanted to yell at them. Why the frick did it even matter who let the cat out of the bag in the first place?

"Look, Jace, don't pretend you don't know your reputation. I want you to stay far away from my little sister because I'm not going to let you toss her away like a plaything. You do it with all the other girls you've met. You toss them away and then you go back for them. I saw you with Kaelie, Jace."

"I. . . Okay. Jon, Kaelie kissed me first. Eventually I gave in though. . ." Jace sounded stunned. "But Jon, what if Clary. . . ?"

"She won't." Jonathan sounded harsh. "I'll keep her away from you."

This was ridiculous. Didn't anyone take into consideration that I could take care of myself? Didn't Jon think he could let me make my own decisions? And why on Earth did Jace just not push Kaelie away, for the love of God? Yeah, so she kissed him first. If he really did "break up" with her, then he wouldn't be going back to her. Duh. That was pretty much a given. In my mind, Jace was now a combination of a douchebag, a player, and someone I had actually grown to like, shockingly enough. But that last persona was probably gone.

"How's the rune?" I heard Jace ask, effectively changing the subject. The rune. As in the rune on Jon's hand, you mean?

"Not bad." I could practically hear the shrug in Jon's voice. "That stele stung a little at first, but it was nothing I couldn't handle."

Arrogant Jon. No wonder he and Jace were friends. I rolled my eyes. But what the hell was a stele? And why would a stele sting. . . ? Now my curiosity was _really_ sparked. I had to know.

Jon's voice came again, "When do you think I'll be able to get more runes?"

More runes? More runes? _More runes? _You could get more of them? I wondered if they all looked like the eye, or if they were different. And then it hit me: _Of course _they were different! I'd been drawing one for a while. So that meant that. . . all the so-called "tattoos" that everyone had were _runes. _

Holy. Hell.

"Soon." Jace sounded indifferent, detached. "That will be decided soon."

"Oh. All right." Jon sounded stiff, but a trickle of excitement leaked into his voice against his will, I was guessing. "What kinds of runes?"

"Most of the permanent ones except for the _parabatai _and marriage ones, I'd except." There was a hint of laughter in Jace's voice once he said "marriage."

I, meanwhile, was completely lost. _Parabatai? _What on Earth was that? And you could get runes for marriage? Okay, then.

Their voices began to get softer and softer. They had to be walking away, because it came to their point where I couldn't hear them anymore. So I tentatively shuffled back to the lowest branch and dropped to the ground, landing in a crouch. When I cautiously skittered over to the other side of the tree, Jace and Jonathan were gone. Thank God. I was wondering how much longer I'd be able to stay in that tree.

I stretched my cramped muscles, wincing. I really needed to work out or something. Just as I figured I should probably go back to class, another figure came stumbling along the path and I started. I was half-in, half-out of the weeping willow's coverage, so I started to slink back into the shadows, when the person called out, "Clary?"

I stopped, peering at the approaching figure. Slender, dark hair, bright eyes— wait a second. "_Ella?!_"

Ella walked towards me carefully like she was coming towards a dangerous animal. I was confused, but then I realized Ella could be high or drunk or hallucinating or _something. _"Yeah. It's me."

I looked at my friend— the same and different. "Ella, where _were_ you? Did you do anything else? And how much did you take last night?"

Ella shook her head. "It doesn't matter, Clary."

I wanted to shake her. I wanted to make her see sense. "Ella, don't you understand—"

"No, Clary. Can you understand?" Ella gestured for me to follow her, so I trailed after her as we began walking around the grounds.

I swallowed. "I. . . A little bit. I understand a little. But I'm not an addict, so I can't understand everything. And I don't know your story either."

Ella gave me a brief smile. "Soon. You will soon when you're ready, Clary. But the main overview of my life is that it's been miserable most of the time. My parents don't care about me, Will, or Cecily. And all of us have at least one little thing that's wrong with us. A lot of people at Idris do. Mental illnesses are a common thing here."

I felt sort of sick. Did Valentine and Jocelyn send Jon and I here because there was something wrong with us? No, not Jon, I decided. I had problems, but they were small, and really, it was a coincidence. "I'm sorry about. . ." _. . .your life? _I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry that this has happened to you."

"It's doesn't matter anymore," Ella replied distantly, repeating herself. "I don't really care. My parents plus my problems drove me to do what I do. That's the main theme of my story, and that's all you need to know for now."

I was practically drowning in my curiosity. What had happened to Ella? What were her "problems"? I didn't want to push her, though. "Okay." Then I remembered the reason I'd hid out here in the first place and felt my stomach liquidize into dread and anxiety. My heartbeat rose up into my throat. "Ella," I began. "Did you hear about what happened. . . ?"

"What happened?" Ella looked at me in confusion for a second, and I hoped she'd heard because I really, really didn't want to relive the encounter. "Oh. Yeah. Clary, did you really assault Jessamine Lovelace?"

I massaged my temples as my head hurt with all the rumors swirling like some kind of gossipy tornado through the school right now. "No."

Ella looked straight at me, her blue eyes unwavering. "Then what happened?"

I groaned. No, no, no, no. But if I didn't tell Ella, then I risked having false gossip blaze through the Shadowhunter grapevine. "Well. . ." I started hesitantly, "it all started when Jessamine tried to trip me in AP Chemistry." I decided on a quick whim to emit the part about how I was late to class because of Ella. "But I kicked her in the shin instead. And after class was over, she got really, really pissed. She started rambling about how the Three Blondes, including her, were going to put me in my place, which is apparently at their feet." I felt a burn of anger spread through me, and closed my eyes. _Please, not now. . . Oh God, not now. _"And. . . I lost it. There's no other excuse. I went off like a firecracker, and oh my God, the things I said were horrible things, horrible things. . ." I realized I'd come to a complete stop and that Ella was touching my arm gently, trying to console me.

Ella sucked in a breath. "How bad was it, Clary?"

"Bad." This time, instead of anger, I felt the familiar burn of shame and mortification. I was more than horrified with myself. "I couldn't get myself to shut up, and it was terrifying, because I couldn't stop myself. I feel like I literally don't even know myself anymore."

I hated that my mind had this much power over me. I hated it when anything or anyone but me had power over me. I despised it, knowing that I was out of even my own control.

"God, Clare, I'm sorry."

"It could be worse, right? I could've hit Jessamine or something." I thought of how close I'd been to slapping or punching her and shivered. Who was I? What was _happening_ to me? It had never been like this before, with the other episodes.

Then I felt like someone had just gone and slugged me in the gut: I was getting worse. Oh God. Oh my God. I had been taken off meds for a while, and the doctors said my—

_No. _The thought was hard and fast. I refused to even let myself think the name, which brought up memories, which were the biggest triggers of all.

"It definitely could've been worse," Ella echoed, then grinned in spite of it all. "Cutting class, Clary? We'll make you into a rebel yet."

"It was necessary," I admitted, looking down at my feet. "I was going crazy in there. But I bet it doesn't matter; everyone already thinks I'm crazy."

"Clary," Ella said, her tone solemn, "everyone here is already crazy whether they know it or not."

* * *

When I walked into the cafeteria at lunch that day, I swear to God the whole place actually went silent, like I was some kind of freakish, dangerous person (which, from hearing all the gossip about me, everyone probably thought I was). Then the awful whispers started up: "It's her!" "Did you hear what she did to Jessie?!" "Why is she even _allowed _here?" "Are the rumors true?" Someone catcalled and whistled a "Congratulations!" as I passed their table, flushing.

Ella was bent over a book, absently flipping the pages without reading anything. Will was next to her, and it looked like he was trying to ask her something. Jace, oddly enough, was seated as far away from Kaelie as humanly possible. Kaelie, Jessamine, and Camille were all clustered into one table, and were all glaring icily at me. I gulped and sat next to Izzy.

"Where've you _been?_" Isabelle muttered to me under her breath.

"Out," I replied. I didn't want to have a full-scale conversation about how I'd cut class because of the breakdown I'd almost had in the hallway.

Surprisingly, Isabelle grinned. "Cutting class much, Clary?"

"Well. . . Yeah," I admitted sheepishly. "But it was necessary."

"I think we've been a bad influence on you," Jace said, who must've been listening.

Dammit. I really didn't feel much like talking to Jace at the moment, but I was guessing he was just going to pretend the incident at the party thing just hadn't happened. Okay, then, Jace. Two can play at this game.

Instead of looking at him, I stared at my food. "Yeah, maybe."

"Nice job with Jessamine, by the way." Jace grinned. "I didn't think anyone could handle her like that."

This time, I did look at him. I'd desperately been hoping that no one would "congratulate" me, because it hadn't been a brave thing I'd done. In reality, I was most likely just as bad as Jessamine herself. "Um, thanks, I guess."

I really wanted to go off in a tangent about how saying all the crap I did to Jessamine wasn't a thing to be proud of in the least little bit, but I didn't think Jace would get it.

"Where'd you go when you were cutting class, Clary?" Was he seriously _still _talking to me? I guess Jace just can't catch a hint. . . But then again, I bet you he just assumes that since he'd Jace Herondale everyone in the whole wide world is always wanting to talk to him. Annoying.

"Outside," I answered stiffly. "I went outside. Where do you think I went?"

"I thought I saw. . . Never mind." Jace frowned, and my stomach dropped to my shoes. Holy crap, I think he'd seen me when I was playing Secret Agent and eavesdropping on him and Jon. "Where outside did you go, exactly?"

I stared challengingly back at him. "Nosy, aren't we?"

"Loosen up, Red, I'm just curious here." Jace put on the full smoldering thing with his golden eyes. Sorry, but I'm _not_ falling for that little act.

And just like that, that goddamned nickname was back. Why. "Okay, then, _Jacey._" His eyes narrowed and I smirked. _Third time's the charm. _"I was just walking around the east side of campus. Are you satisfied?"

Now it was Jace's turn to smirk. "I would be if I was there with you."

I could feel myself responding to Jace's quips against my own volition. I rolled my eyes. "In your dreams, Herondale. Besides, aren't you dating yourself anyways?"

"I'm shocked you remember, Clary. But dating oneself doesn't give me very much company."

"Gee, I can't imagine why," I said sarcastically, and at that moment, Will's head jerked up.

"All I heard was that Jace was dating himself," said Will. "Cousin, this is a new development. What happened to Kaelie?"

I could see Jace's mouth straighten out into a high-strung line. "Kaelie is obnoxious, clingy, and rude, Will."

Will shrugged. "Cool it, Jace. I was just asking, because you've hung around her since middle school, and then out of the blue you just break up with her."

I glanced between the two Herondale boys, looking around for anyone to help me diffuse the tension between them. Too bad everyone else was already wrapped up in different conversations. This _definitely _wouldn't end well. . .

"If you want to get onto the topic of your love life, William, then why don't you confess—"

"Shut up," Will growled, leaning forwards. His jaw flexed, and I racked my head for side topics of conversation to stop a full-blown fight from exploding in the cafeteria. "If you ever say another word about that, Jace—"

"You'll what? Punch me?" Jace mocked, and I decided it was time to step in as the peacemaker.

"Guys," I started, but they ignored me, each trying to outdo the other in a manly competition of "Who Has the Most Masculine Glare."

"You know what?" Will snapped. "I think I might just do that."

I was sitting next to Will, and Will was across from Jace, who was gripping the table so ferociously it looked like he was going to break it in half. So I scooted into Will's side and elbowed him as hard as I possibly could in the ribs.

"Hey!"

I shrugged. "It was for your own good, William. Now both of you _stop it now. _Or I'll be forced to get Izzy to stab both of you with her shoes."

"Stay out of this, Clary," snarled Jace, back to glaring at Will.

"No, I won't!" I said loudly. "You guys aren't getting into a fight in the middle of a school day, or so help me, I'll quit talking to both of you."

Their heads snapped towards me in surprising synchrony.

"You can stop talking to _him_," Will muttered, jerking his head towards Jace. "He's an asshole anyways."

"God," I snapped. "Why can't you two just be _friends_ or something? I still have that story, Jace. Want me to read the parts you edited out to the whole school?"

To my astonishment, Jace paled slightly. I felt bewildered— hadn't Jace just been telling me he wanted everyone to read it yesterday or something?

"What story?" Will had caught on almost immediately.

"It's nothing, just a dumbass story Hodge had Jace and me write in History. That's all." When Will remained unconvinced as the bell rang, I smiled at him and said, "I'll give you the details after school if you want."

"Sure," Will said absently. And the fight between him and Jace stopped sort of; with Jace looking suspiciously at Will and I. Will's mind, meanwhile, seemed to be thousands of miles away. "By the way, Clary, can you meet me at the north side of the grounds? I want to talk to you."

"Yeah, it's not like I actually do anything after school anyways," I grinned. Will flashed me a quick smile before running to catch up to Ella, and Jace fell into step with me.

"What the hell was that all about?" Jace still sounded suspicious.

"I'm just meeting up with a friend after school, Jace. Is that of great importance to you or something?" I frowned. Jace seemed to have a penchant for wanting to know exactly what I was doing with Will. I wanted to tell Jace to mind his own freaking business, but I decided against that.

"I think he's got a bit more than friendship on his mind," Jace smirked, and I really wanted to hate him.

"Well, no one asked you," I shot back. "Why do you even care?"

"Now _that_, Clary, is none of your business." Jace winked at me and melted seamlessly into the throng of people in front of us. I barely managed to catch his golden head above the crowd.

My mouth fell open. How _dare _he! Why did Jace think he could pry into whatever aspect of my life that he wanted, but that I couldn't ask him a single question?! Will was right: Jace, for the most part, truly _was_ an asshole. And about a hundred other ugly names I could think up for him.

* * *

Just like I promised, I met Will in the north section of the grounds. I'd never been up there before, so I had to ask Izzy for directions. And it turned out the north side was even more secluded than the weeping willow part I'd just been on. Why hadn't I know about the north side before I went all psycho on Jessamine?

I spotted Will from afar— probably because he wasn't that hard to recognize anywhere and because Camille was hovering around him.

"Back off, Camille," I heard him say irritably. "I'm only here because I'm waiting for someone."

Camille's head shot up like dog's (see, rabid dog again!), her eyes narrowing into green slits once she saw me; her face transforming into an expression of repulsion.

"William," she purred, "you're not waiting for _her, _are you?"

Will threw me a sly looking grin and said to Camille, "Well, I'm certainly not waiting for _you_."

I swallowed a laugh while Will just laughed outright. Camille huffed like a very pissed off dragon, and stomped away, making sure to deliberately step on my foot. Ow.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked Will once Camille was far out of sight— likely reporting to the Head Commander of the Three Blondes. Or something like that.

"Cut right to the chase, don't you, Clary?" Will stuck his hands in his pockets with a smirk. Okay, _what_ was it with the Herondales and that same smirk they always had on their faces?

I rolled my eyes at him. "Well, excuse me, I assumed it was important." Actually, I _knew _it was important— I had a faint idea about what this was going to be about.

Will's grin faded slightly. "You were right about that. It is important."

"Okay. . . So what is it?" Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a flash of gold, but no. . . I was seeing things. As usual.

"Remember how I didn't have an explanation for all the weird crap that's been happening?"

"Yes. But you _do_ have an explanation. You just don't want to tell me."

"You can read me like a book, Clary." Will laughed, and I grinned a little without meaning to.

"Believe me, Will, it's a gift."

Will nudged my shoulder with his gently, and I jabbed him in the ribs in return. "But anyways, on with the explanation. Everyone here at Idris is. . ." Will searched for a word. "Everyone at Idris is special. We're different. A group of us are considered the 'bad kids' everywhere, but that's not the half of it." Will stopped walking and turned to face me. "Do you want me to continue?"

He had me mesmerized with his story, and he hadn't even gotten halfway finished. "Hell, yes! Go on, Will. I'm dying here!"

"Okay. Some of us at Idris are called Shadowhunters." Will paused to gauge my reaction.

I blurted, "I know! I mean. . . No. I didn't mean to say that. Sorry, go on."

Will was watching me with a strange expression on his face and I had a feeling that he was starting to guess that I wasn't as innocent and oblivious about the whole thing as I pretended to be. "Shadowhunters are powerful beings that aren't even human. This generation— me, Jace, Isabelle— used to things that were our purpose, but we are half-human, and the things we'd seen drove us to do some terrible things. It caused mental problems and were the jumpstarts for our addictions. The Clave, which is the Shadowhunter government, decided we had to be sent here, to Idris, to get over our addictions and play out life as mundanes— humans— before we got to join the Shadow World again. But none of us got over any of our addictions. As a matter of fact, everything bad in us only increased. And soon our parents and the Clave forgot about us, and so here we are: stuck in Idris High School for all of our eternities."

"That's horrible," I gasped, still in shock about Will's revelation of what they all were. "Your parents just. . . _forgot_—"

"It wasn't that hard to do," Will interrupted me. He seemed to notice how harsh he sounded, and softened his tone. "We're a disgrace to the Clave. All of us. Except for you and Jonathan, because your parents kept you away from this life of— of alcohol and drugs and problems and all this complete, utter bullshit that's happened. The Clave is looking to you and Jon now to change things in us. And none of us are getting better, Clary. You've seen Ella— someday she's just going to take it too far. Someday Izzy is going to purge an ulcer in her stomach and a tear in her esophagus. Someday Jace and I will lose ourselves to alcohol. But you and Jon, you two are pure and untouched by this gene that spread throughout our generation because your parents kept you away from this life."

I felt a wash of horror course throughout me. Isabelle was. . . bulimic? Impossible. But. . . I thought again. She was so good at hiding it that there were miniscule signs, things that I was too stupid to realize. And Ella was a drug addict, I knew that, but I didn't know the extent of Will's and Jace's alcoholism until now. Except Jon and I weren't pure. Jon, perhaps, was freed from the gene that Will was talking about, but it had hit me over the head like a frying pan in middle school. And then. . . Jocelyn and Valentine. I hadn't gotten a single call or text or Skype or visit or _anything _from them. Had they put Jon and I here to forget about us, like everyone else's parents had? I didn't think I wanted to know the answer. A foul mixture of anger, dread, and horror tangled my insides together in a great big knot.

"But Will, I'm not. . . I'm not pure like Jonathan is. I've already been screwed over by that gene. And I can't help the Clave accept you— accept us— again."

"Yes, you can," Will said firmly. "I have faith in you."

"You have faith in nothing, then," I replied hollowly. "I don't know how. I've never even met the Clave, for God's sake!"

Will hesitated, and I waited for his crushing disappointment as he realized that no one would rescue him from this pretty prison of a school. "There's something about you, Clary. Something that you'll have to figure out on your own, but that's why the Clave thinks you'll be the one."

Yeah, whatever, Will. Don't get your hopes up, because I can't do anything. "What are the tattoos for?" I ran a finger along an especially swirly on Will's arm.

"They're runes." A brief smile graced Will's face. "Mundanes can't see them because they're glamoured. That's why everyone believed you couldn't see them because they thought you were a mundane. And we were all so shocked that you started drawing runes because we thought you were a mundane. Runes are what give us power. The one you just touched is the rune for memory. Gives us the ability to remember everything."

I remembered the rune on Jon's hand. "What's the eye on your hand for?"

"The eye helps us see the Shadow World properly. It's usually the first rune every Shadowhunter gets."

"So. . . Jon is a Shadowhunter." I was secretly dying to know when I'd be like everyone there— a Shadowhunter too, but didn't mention it.

"Yes." We were silent for a minute until Will said, "But Clary, do you understand what it means to be a Shadowhunter?"

I thought back to Will's story. "Yes."

"Living with the knowledge of the Shadow World is dangerous. We do fight demons, after all. Or at least we used to. Are you afraid?"

I mulled that over for a while, thinking hard about it. But I had no fear. I wasn't frightened. "No, Will, I'm not afraid."

Will shook his head as a small smile curled up around the edges of his mouth. It made me smile too. "I didn't think so. Clary Morgenstern, you're fearless."

Just then, I heard a voice behind us: "Well, well, didn't fancy seeing you two here."

* * *

**Chapter Seven = done! w00t! The bad thing is that I won't be updating (probably) COTF, Clockwork Academy, Dark Clarity, and Clockwork Enigma (yeah, I'm starting that one up again) until next weekend :(((( Sorry about that! But school is getting more and more insane and I barely have time to update even on weekends anymore! Oh well, writing chapter seven gave me a good excuse of why not to do my English homework, heh heh. But at least this chapter is pretty long. . . right? haha. **

**Clary goes a bit crazy and OOC in here. . . Review if you want me to put a revelation about what her "problems" are in the next chapter! She doesn't think of them because they're like huge triggers to her btw.**

**Here's an idea I got from another fanfic: Imagine either Jace or Will is sitting next to you. Jace/Will puts an arm around you and kisses you, then pulls back for a moment and whispers "Review" in your ear. . . **

**Got any suggestions for me? This chapter is a bit of a filler chapter, but at least 1/2 of the loose ends are tied up! **

**I'm issuing a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited, or reviewed! YOU GUYS ARE FREAKING AWESOME AND DESERVE AWARDS!**

**Okay, so remember my mini poll last chapter: Team Clace or Team Clary x Will? Well I actually went and totaled up the votes, and it's three for Team Clace and seven for Team Clary x Will and one for Undecided! I'm still not sure what to do. . . Let's just say for y'all to prepare for A LOT of drama! **

**Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! So until next weekend. . . **

**Guest: I'm so torn between Clary x Will and Clace! ahhhhhh! Thanks for the review :)**

**Guest: Okay, I agree with most of that! And Jace is a bit of an asshole, but Kaelie will soon vanish from his love life. . . Thanks for reviewing!**

**Guest: I've been hearing Clary x Will from a lot of people, so it might just happen. . . ;) Thanks for the review!**

**AmberWolf1049: The black eye thing is all cleared up in this chapter, so yay! Sorry, I had Will tell her— but guess who comes into the next chapter?! haha! Thank you, I'm happy you like it! And thanks a ton for reviewing!**

**ClaryElena: Thank you so much! Ik I'm really starting to love Cill. . . :D Thanks for reviewing!**

**Lover: I'm so so torn between Clace and Cill! Thanks for the review :)**

**Jess: Thank you! Here's the update, so yay :-) Thank you for the review!**

**Justbeautifulme33: Awe thank you! I'm so glad you think so :) Ehh I just can't decide between Clace and Cill! It's so hard! That's a good idea though, and I'll definitely keep that in mind :) Thanks so much for reviewing!**

**KittyCat6264: Ooh all of those questions have answers in this chapter :) Thank you for the review!**

**Toasty: Ahaha that note was too much fun to write! I actually did do one of those. . . And it was plain odd haha. Yeah more Clary x Will in coming up! Omg I just read the whole thing about the butter and I'm dying hahaha! I'm glad you liked the chapter! Thanks for the review XD**

**Soaking In The Reign: I'm stuck between the two ships in the middle of ShipLand haha! Idk if I'll put you in as an OC but you might just see a character under the name of Autumn sometime ;) Thanks for reviewing!**

**Morning and Eve: Ik, I feel so bad for Ella! But I am really happy that you thought the chapter (at least some parts of it) were funny, because that was EXACTLY what I was aiming for! Thank you so much for reviewing!**

**Nemo: Omg thank you a billion! And here's that update, so I hope you enjoy the new chapter :) Thank you for the review!**

**Mildred: Jace going crazy because he can't have Clary is part of my plan ;) I'm dying to kick Kaelie and Co. out of this fanfic, but mehhhhh I have to keep them in here. Thanks for reviewing :) **

**AnnaW14: Oh my gosh, thank you so much! I was trying to capture that, so I'm beyond happy that you think I pulled it off :D I kinda feel the same way tbh. . . I guess we'll just have to see what happens to Clary. Ooh thanks for the suggestion! You'll see some lyrics from "Oblivion" very, very soon ;) Thanks so much for reviewing!**

**Vannaluv: Ahhhhh I'm in the exact same boat! So torn here it's not even funny. . . Well maybe a little bit. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Amp1342: Thank you, I'm glad you like it! I'm just ridiculously stuck between the two ships *screams* Thanks for the review :-)**

**RachelTheShadowhunter: I just can't decide! eep! I'm so keeping that idea in my mind, I have a feeling it's going to come in handy ;) Thanks for the review!**


	8. Chapter 8: Only Human

**DISCLAIMER: Seriously, y'all, it's called FANFICTION for a reason. . .**

**Warning: This chapter has alcohol and drug use, along with a lot of. . . erm, in detail talk about mental illnesses. Warning, warning, warning. no flames please, since I've told y'all upfront.**

**Chapter Eight: Only Human**

* * *

_They say pain is an illusion,_

_This is just a bruise_

_And you are just confused _

_But I am only human_

_I could use a hand sometimes, _

_I am only human_

—Krewella, "Human"

* * *

I whirled around, my tangled hair flying into an even messier bird's nest of knots with a mini heart attack from being stupefied with surprise. "Mother of _God—_"

"No swearing, Clarissa. Remember our deal?" Jace's voice was silky as he cocked an eyebrow at me, although I could tell from the set of his jaw that he was royally pissed. But why? And why was _everyone _on the whole freaking planet able to raise one eyebrow at a time. . . but _me?_

"We never had a 'deal', jackass," I snapped at him. The words were out of my mouth before I'd even thought about whatever I was going to say. I stood up, and Will did the same. It was a shame I was so short— couldn't I grow at least a few inches?

Jace laughed, and Will glared at him. "So I see you finally got around to spilling the news about what we are, William."

"Why does it matter to you if I did?" Will said shortly. "It's none of your business either way, Jace."

"If you told _her_" —Jace jerked his head my way— "then it's anyone who's a Shadowhunter's business."

"Hey!" I interjected, crossing my arms. "I'm standing _right here. _Did that ever occur to you?"

The coldness in Jace's eyes, the twist of his mouth, and the absolute coolness in the shape of his phrases made me wish I hadn't said anything at all. "Well, Clarissa, you're so small that it makes you a bit difficult to see from up here."

I despised being needled about my height— a factor I couldn't even control, and yet people were always looking for any excuse these days. "Bastard," I muttered lowly, catching Will's gaze for a second, which glittered in agreement. "What is your _problem_, Jace? God. And can you quit calling me Clarissa, maybe? Unless you want me to confuse you with my middle-age, half-assed father, which in that case, I'd be happy to comply to. There's a certain. . . _resemblance_ in the physical features and personality between you two."

"Oh, you mean we're both described as smoking hot, beautiful, talented, witty, and strong?" Jace smirked, but there was a cruel edge to it. _What_ was up with him today?

I scoffed. "Not even close— unless you meant ugly," —here, my brain was screaming at me to just admit I found him handsome already, but I rather would've died than said so— "annoying, cowardly," —I doubted that was true about Jace either— "and possessive?"

I heard Will mumble, "Damn" under his breath.

"I think you're mistaken, Red," Jace said lazily. _Can I slap him yet? _"Are you sure you aren't talking about Ursula over here?"

My mouth fell open. "You promised that there'd be no more references from that _damned story!_"

"I am nothing but if a liar."

"Shut the _hell_ up, Jace," Will snapped, his eyes going up in sparks of anger. Great. Now he was plainly furious as well. "C'mon, Clary."

"No, wait, Will." I glared at Jace, and he scowled in return, his golden eyes narrowing in blank fury. I was personally dying to know what had him so hot and bothered (not that I would ever say that phrase aloud to either of the Herondale boys, because God knows they'd twist it into some sort of unfortunate innuendo). "Jace, do you _really_ want me to go and post that on Facebook or something?"

"Do you think I care?" Jace sounded like he usually did: seductive, bored, mocking, and extremely arrogant.

"The last time I mentioned that story, you seemed pretty scared, Herondale." I tried my best to arch an eyebrow at him, but from the look on his face (mocking amusement), I think I failed. As in one big epic fail. "So yes, I would say you care."

"Open up your eyes, Red," Jace said depreciatingly with a smirk. "Is it just me or are you the worst person at detecting lies that I've ever seen?"

"_Jace_," Will hissed from between his teeth.

"No, it's fine, Will," I got out as calmly as I could stand, placing a restraining hand on Will's arm. "I deal with assholes _all_ the time. Especially this blonde one in front of me."

"How you wound me," Jace said sarcastically, putting a hand to his heart like I'd stabbed him. Unfortunately, that was just wishful thinking on my part— stabbing him.

I rolled my eyes. _Control it, Clary. _"Just remember that you're still as much of a dick as Prince Eric is."

Will looked torn between confusion and laughter. "Prince Eric what?"

I couldn't help myself; I let out a small laugh and then clamped my jaw shut for a minute. Now Jace and Will were both staring at me, so I unclenched it long enough to mutter, "Prince Eric _never mind. _It's nothing, Will."

* * *

Will had walked me up to the dorms and then dashed off, mumbling something about a thing he had to do. I didn't mind, to be honest, I needed some time alone from the petty civilization of this school to mull things over.

I went slowly and carefully into the dorm, keeping a lookout for the Three Blondes, who I suspected were out to very publicly murder me after the incident with Jessamine this morning. It was my lucky day— or afternoon, since this morning had been pure crap— because I heard no annoying-as-hell bubble-gum voices that popular girls always speak in or the click-clack sounds that were a trademark sign of stilettos. The common room was empty, and by the time I'd crept into the second level, feeling much like a serial killer, the whole floor was silent, like a broken city. I began to feel more and more suspicious. There were no voices, no loud music, no strobe lights. There was none of the quiet murmuring from the other end, or the perpetually drunk/high person graffiting the wall either. Weird. Where _was _everyone?

To anyone else, they would've walked right by and been thankful at the lack of noise. But to me, it was strange and a little frightening, like an empty house at night. There should be voices, there should be the obviously drunk laughter or the smashing noise of someone chucking their textbook at a wall.

There was a small noise from around the corner, and I nearly lost it by almost falling over with shock. Mini heart attack right there. Instead, I tiptoed as gracefully as Clary Morgenstern can manage, at least, and peered around the corner.

Ew. Ew. Ew. The _hell?_

I recoiled and stumbled backwards. That image was going to burned into the back of my head for as long as I'd live, and it's not something I ever wanted to witness— Isabelle, my best friend, and Jonathan, my older brother, sucking each other's faces off. Ew times infinity.

Well, it was about time, if you were a ridiculously optimistic person. And I guess I knew that two people were here now, and it wasn't just me, creeping around the corridors like a majorly insane stalker or something odd like that.

Before Izzy and Jon could recover from their, um, "_activities_," I ran into my room and quickly shut the door. Let's just block that moment out from my memory. Like _now _would be nice, brain. I smacked myself in the head with a book. Couldn't Iz and Jon at least— Okay, no. Not thinking about this for another minute.

I flopped off my bed and surveyed the room. Ella wasn't there, and her things were untouched like she hadn't been in here for a while. Her bed was completely smooth, and the homework on her desk looked like it was contemplating the wall. I slid over to the last drawer in her nightstand that I knew held all her drug paraphernalia, and I stared at in, stunned.

It was empty.

Maybe Ella had finally listened to Will and I and cleared out her drug addiction like yesterday's trash. I didn't know, but I doubted Ella would ever give up her addiction that easily. But, still— but wait.

My eyes narrowed, and I looked a little closer at the thought-to-be empty drawer. I didn't know how I'd missed it, but there was a slender, short knife curled into the side of the drawer, and I hesitantly drew it out. It had a bone hilt and a thinly flat blade. It was sort of pretty. A _sick_ sort of pretty, I instantaneously corrected myself, wondering what Ella had a knife for.

I jolted as I heard beeping from outside, which meant that someone was punching in the code for the room. Panicking, I leapt upwards, and, dammit, I still had Ella's knife in my hand. I hastily dropped it in the drawer and shoved it shut just as the doorknob rattled and the door swung open.

"Um. . . hi," I offered with a weak smile, taking large step far, far away from Ella's nightstand and collapsed on my bed.

Ella shot me a bewildered look, her eyes going from her nightstand to me and back again. I guess she decided I wasn't a threat to her pretty little knife when she stepped into the room and slammed the door shut behind her. "Clary, are you high or something?"

"_What?_ I'm not doing _anything!_" I blurted. Yeah, that wasn't suspicious or anything. But who ever said I was any good at lying through my teeth?

Ella arched an eyebrow at me. "Anyways, what the hell are you so nervous about? I'm not going to sock you in the face. That's your own job."

"I, just. . ." I racked my mind for ideas. Ella wasn't easily fooled, being a walking, talking lie detector. "Isabelle and Jonathan! Iz and Jon. That's it."

"What about them?" Ella sounded slightly weary as she sat down in her desk chair.

"I found them making out in the hall," I confessed. _Thank you, brain, thank you! _"I didn't mean to interrupt their snogging session, but. . . Awkward."

"Oh." Ella laughed briefly, but her dark blue eyes weren't laughing. "It's about damn time. How long has Izzy been obsessing over him again?"

"Don't think we've got the better end of the stick now," I warned her. "Knowing Izzy, we'll have to listen to hours of gushing about what a good kisser Jon is. . . And he's my _brother_."

"Exactly." Ella shuddered. "Iz used to be dating this foreign guy named Meliorn, who she thought was the hottest thing ever. He was from Sweden, and according to Isabelle, all the hot guys come from Europe. She had him seduced in a week, and all I heard when I talked to her was, 'Oh Meliorn, his lips are so soft, and he's just amazing!'"

"Gross." If Isabelle made comment like that involving Jon, I might have to resort to strangling her.

"That's not even the worst half of it," Ella continued mercilessly despite my pleas for her to pretty please shut up. "They started sleeping together. And no matter how many times Alec told her that she shouldn't go around campus shouting it, Isabelle never shut up. Although she had a few more complaints this time. . . 'It's so uncut, ew.' and 'God, he finishes too fast.' I wanted to throw up."

I could feel myself turning red in one point two seconds. A record. If Isabelle _ever_ starting sleeping with Jon and let the whole school know, I would bash my head into a wall. "Doesn't Izzy know how revolting that is for, oh say, _the entire school?!" _

"Obviously not." Ella rolled her eyes. "I was never so glad to see a couple break up before. And that's counting Jessie, Camille, and Kaelie with their new flavors of the week."

For some reason, Ella's knife flew back into my mind as our conversation was whittled down to nothing. I was dying to ask her about it, but how does one do that? _By the way, Ella, I found a knife in your nightstand and I was wondering what you use it for? _And then she would know I'd gone through her stuff, which, in retrospect, was a really bitchy move of mine to do. So no. Besides, she might even tell me herself. . .

"So where is everyone?" I asked lightly. I still hadn't heard anything else since Ella arrived.

Ella frowned, shifting anxiously around in her seat. "I don't know. Out, I guess?"

"Yeah, but where?" I inquired. I had to know. I _had _to. When Ella only responded by pinching her lips together, I pressed, "Is there some party tonight I don't know about?"

"Well—" Ella muttered lowly, pausing. "Not really. It's nothing you need to worry about. Honestly, Clary. Just stay out of it, okay?"

"I _can't,_" I snapped, feeling sort of angry again. How the hell did Ella expect me to "stay out of it" when "it" was practically my current life? "Especially not after Will told me all of it today. I know that your generation got a damaged gene and went half-insane after killing things. I know that since Jon and I were raised away from this life of scars and blood, we're supposed to be able to redeem all of you with the Clave, who kicked everyone out. But I also know that I've already been ruined. Jon is 'pure.' But I'm not."

Ella was pale, paler than a cloud or a ghost. Her eyes looked huge and drained in her sheet-white face. At last she managed to choke out, "Clary, you're fine. Whole. It's us that are the one who are ruined."

"You don't know what you're talking about." I couldn't explain it, but I suddenly felt terrified. What if the Clave and Ella and Will and _everyone, _even bitchy little Jessamine, were all relying on Jon and I? And how would they react when they found out that we weren't saviors, but mere teenagers? "Ella, it's already gotten to me. It all started in. . . in seventh grade." I swallowed hard. "I started having problems."

"Did Will ever tell you what the gene did?" Ella's voice was unwavering. I shook my head in a clear _No. _"It makes us more susceptible to mental illnesses and addictions. No one ever told us where it came from, but I always thought it came from having too much power— being related to angels and all that." Ella rubbed a hand against her face, flopping backwards and closing her eyes like she was trying to remember something. "None of us were like this, you know. I wasn't a drug addict or depressed, Will wasn't nearing alcoholism. Izzy never had an eating disorder. Kaelie never used to be anorexic. We all were normal, once upon a time, and we never knew how good we had it.

"Until the Clave started sending us out on more missions to kill demons, to kill people they didn't like. We were like a secret organization of trained murderers, and none of us were comfortable with it." Ella's voice took on a darker tone as she continued, "But as we lived on, it all got harder to bear. And then my mother died. And then Izzy and Alec's parents abandoned them. And then Kaelie was bullied. And then it all just happened. I remember the first time I found Will and Jace with a bottle. And I wasn't even mad, because I wanted some for myself.

"Everything just got worse. We went downhill, and the Clave expelled us until we were 'fixed' again. But can you imagine," Ella laughed bitterly, "imagine being thrown out of society into this seventh circle of hell just because you couldn't control your genetics. And then just imagine your parents forgetting about you because you're the black sheep of the family, the one they're so ashamed of."

"But— but wouldn't they understand?" I pleaded. I couldn't decide if I was trying to convince myself or Ella. "My parents did. Well, they sort of did, at least. My mom never really mentions it, and I don't know if my dad knows, but if he does, he never brings it up."

"My parents aren't like that," Ella said simply in a hard voice.

"No parents are that cruel."

"No, you don't get it. You don't know my parents." Ella's eyes shot open, and they were full of accusation and regret. "My parents aren't the kind of people that even bother understanding. They'd just yell at me, like they always do. They'd be so incredibly furious with me that they wouldn't even bother to see me. In their eyes, I'm just this insignificant _little girl _who seeks attention. I don't matter to them."

"Your parents would understand," I attempted weakly. "They'd listen to you. I know they would."

"You're lying to yourself, then," Ella said bleakly. "Clary, I've accepted that my parents would hate me if I told them what's really going on. It's fine."

"It's _not_ fine!" I shouted, bolting to my feet. "Ella, it's not fine at all, and you need help, and you need to get out of here—"

"Shut up, Clary! Just _shut up!"_ Ella was on her feet and glaring fiercely at me. "You can't change my parents. You can't do anything for me. I'm alone. Don't try to make it better when that the reality is that it won't get better. The only people who say that are people who've been helped. Like _you_. I'm one of those people that goes into statistics of the mentally ill, and eventually, the ones that vanish into thin air. I'm just a number, and I don't care about anything anymore."

And I shut up. I couldn't think of anything to say to that, because Ella was right. And what do you say to someone who's already decided their own fate? You can't convince them otherwise. _Especially_ if that person was Ella.

Ella looked exhausted as she sank back to the floor, grounded again. "Clary, you need to get out of here. Go back and live a normal life, and stay far away from all of this crap. Okay?"

"No, Ella, I can't," I said firmly. "I'm already messed up. That's why I was dumped here by my 'parents.' It's not acceptable to have anger management issues and be a schizo in the Morgenstern household, apparently."

"Why haven't you shown any symptoms?"

"I was on heavy meds most of the time to ward off the paranoid schizophrenia and anger stuff, but they're wearing off. I had my first hallucination in a long time last night, and the scene with Jessamine this morning was just the tip of the iceberg."

"How much longer until—"

"I don't know," I broke in. I could feel all my disorders rising up inside of me like a disease. "Soon, until I'm back to the crazy stage."

"What about Jon?"

"I don't know," I repeated myself. Nice job sounding like a parrot there. I didn't know how I still had a sense of humor considering the situation. The knife swam hazily through my mind again. "Ella, in your nightstand—"

Ella expertly cut me off, although I could see she was shaking. "Clary, there's a party tonight."

"Another one?" I grumbled, and tried again. "Ella, can we—"

"There's nothing to talk about," Ella replied sharply, just like the tip of that knife of hers. "But do you want to go or not?"

I thought of the mounds of homework waiting for me in a desert of dullness. Compare that to the adrenaline of a party, and I knew what the obvious choice was. I sighed in submission. "Where the hell is this one?"

Ella's smile was glittering in satisfaction as she threw a dress at me. "Not here, Clary."

* * *

I shimmied into the random sparkly dress Ella chucked my way in the bathroom and promptly glowered at my pissed-off reflection. First of all, the dress was way. Too. Tight. It was literally like my skin had turned red and glittery. Second of all, didn't Ella know that scarlet wasn't the most flattering shade when combined with my already fiery hair?

Apparently not. Because when I snuck out of the bathroom and tried to snag one of my own party dresses to change into, Ella made sure that dress (along with my other options) vanished.

"Clary, you are _not _getting out of wearing that dress," Ella stated sternly. Well, it was easy for her to say. . . She looked perfect in long-sleeved violet and a cat-eye, which made her seem a whole lot older than seventeen.

I sputtered. "That's bloody unfair! Why can't I wear something—"

"Just think about it. You'll make the male population drop dead." Ella smirked a famous Herondale smirk and I threw a shoe at her.

"I really don't _want_ that effect," I muttered cowardly, but I still put on the shoes Ella told me to, wishing like hell that I could switch clothes with her. "So where is this party again? And why do they always have to be on a _school night?_"

"What can I say?" Ella shrugged as she headed out the door. "We like to party. It. . . helps."

I stumbled ungracefully along in her wake, thinking of their— well, our— completely screwed genetics. So, basically the gene made us all more likely to be afflicted with mental problems and addictions, which tied right in with partying. These Shadowhunters were everything that Jocelyn and Valentine had warned me to stay away from, but did it look like I gave a single shit? No. Besides, I was one of them now.

"Helps?" I echoed curiously as I slid into Ella's fancy car. I guessed it was one of the things she'd gotten off her parents before they completely rejected her.

Ella's smirk faded slightly, and she was deep in thought again. "None of us like to remember our pasts or the present matters at hand. We're constantly looking for something to make us forget, even if it's just for a little while, and partying seems to do the trick. Combine that with an illegal substance and we're in heaven. Or hell. It depends on how you look at it all, I guess. What do you think, Clary?"

Forgetting. It sounded nice, and I was so sick and tired of all the memories that kept coming back. I grinned confidently at Ella. "I think it sounds like heaven."

"Damn straight," agreed Ella. She sounded sort of high already; a little too excited and pumped to stay still.

I thought about the knife again, thinking hard. Why did Ella have a knife? And why was she hiding it? I doubted she was going to murder someone with it, but it wasn't like she was faffing about chopping vegetables for dinner either. _Man up and freaking ask her, _I reprimanded myself, and cleared my throat. "Ella, can I ask you something?"

Her grip on the steering wheel clenched like a heartbeat. "Do you want to know who's going to be there? Will is, in case you're wondering."

"No, I wasn't going to ask you that," I managed to say as evenly as possible. "Ifoundaknifeinyourdrawer."

"You. . . what?" Ella arched an eyebrow at me, mystified. Or at least she was pretending to be, which was definitely possible.

I gulped. God, why was I so nervous? Because I was a bitch for going through her stuff, that's why. "I found a knife in your drawer."

For a while, Ella was silent. Her face was tight and closed off, like a warning to all passerby. I thought that maybe she just hadn't heard me, but I didn't say anything. I still said nothing as she pulled into a parking spot across from a deserted alleyway in downtown London. Ella was out of the car in one fluid motion, slamming the door shut, so I followed her example, hurrying after her.

"Ella, where are we going?"

"To a club." A sense of uneasiness spread through me as Ella turned down the dark alley. _What. . ._

"What's it called?" Against my better judgment, I ran down the alley after Ella, her heels clicking serenely on the concrete.

"Pandemonium," was Ella's short reply.

_Pandemonium._ The name swirled around and around in my mind like clothes in a dryer, and I froze. Pandemonium. There was a club with the exact same name in Brooklyn, but for them to be the _exact_ same club was preposterous.

Music shook the sidewalk we were going along, getting louder and louder. Eventually, Ella halted at a door I'd missed, since it was set back even farther in the shadows of the alleyway. I watched, stupefied, as she flirted with the bouncer to get us in, and her charm did the job. The bouncer opened the door for us, blushing, and we slid in like snakes.

I gazed around the inside of the club. It was dim and noisy, the dance floor writhing with sweaty bodies that revolved in and out of columns of artificial smoke and colored strobe lights. Girls tossed their long hair, boys swung their hips, and honestly, I'd never felt so alive since I'd been to the Pandemonium in Brooklyn.

But it was all the same. And it hurt, because it was like my old life was back and slapping me in the face. I kept expecting to find Simon by my side, prattling on about gaming, or to find myself wearing my past attire of a plaid shirt and jeans, or having to worry about Jocelyn's curfew.

But I was in London, with the Shadowhunters, where parents and rules were nonexistent, clad in a glimmering party dress surrounded by people like me with Simon nowhere to be seen. I didn't feel sad like I'd expected, but instead I felt almost drunk. Now I knew just what Ella was talking about when she said that partying helped, because I could practically feel myself forgetting already.

"You like it?" Ella yelled in my ear to be heard over the music.

"I've. . . been here," I said, my head full of the pounding music as Ella danced to the second level. It was a little quieter up there, but I sort of wanted the splitting noise to come back. Ella seemed laughing and delirious, which was odd because of the conversation we were having in the car about. . .

_The knife!_ Holy shit, how did I forget about that? I shook my head, trying to clear the fuzz from it, and grabbed Ella's arm. "Ella, what about your knife?"

The bliss and ignorance dissipated from Ella's eyes, and I could see reality hitting her in the face. She stood completely still; a breathing statue. Finally, she said guardedly, "What do you want to know about that, Clary?"

"Why the hell do you have a _knife_, Ella?" I blurted. "What are you planning on doing with it?"

She turned away from me. "It doesn't matter."

I caught her wrist, and she flinched away from me, shoving her wrist behind her back. My eyes darted from her wrist to the expression on her face and then to the knife in my thoughts, slowly connecting the dots. And then once I had it, I wanted to slap myself. How could I have been so stupid? How had I let her do this to herself?

"Ella, you're—" I choked out. "_Why?_"

"It doesn't matter, Clary," Ella repeated slowly, coldly, a hand inching around to pull one of her sleeves down.

"How can you _say _that?!" I felt empty inside, and furious with myself for not knowing or bothering to think of how bad she'd gotten.

"Because I believe it," Ella hissed angrily. "You can scream at me all you want, Clary, but you can't make me stop. I don't want your pity, and I don't want your sympathy. I _definitely_ don't want you to understand. I want you to leave me alone, because get this in your head, Clary, okay— _you can't save everyone." _

My mouth fell open. "Ella, _please_, can't you stop—" I begged, but she shook her head furiously, glaring at me.

"Because _that_ fucking helps," snarled Ella. "No, Clary. You're going to lecture me for being a cutter. Just like everyone else. And I'm _not_ going to listen to you."

And before I knew what was happening, she was swirled back into the crowd of dancers, gone from my sight. And I was left alone, feeling numb and in shock.

"Clary?" an uncertain, familiar voice came from behind me, and I whirled around. Will was standing, alone and with a bottle in his hand. He looked slightly puzzled. "Are you all right? I heard someone yelling and—"

"Give me that," I snapped, and snatched the bottle out of his hand. I took a huge sip, finishing the last little bit left in it and relishing the burning feeling as it went down my throat. It was vodka, and I didn't care. I needed to feel something, anything, and I didn't care what it was.

"Clary, I thought you didn't drink?" Poor Will. I'd forgotten about his addiction, though I could now see the way his eyes went back and forth from the bottle to me again and again.

I set the empty bottle on a table behind me, wiping my mouth off with the back of my hand. "Things change," I said delicately. "Where are you getting that?"

"There's a bar here, didn't you—"

A bar. My mind whirled, the gears turning. Who knows, it might just become a lucky night for me after all.

"Sorry, Will, I have to. . ." I trailed off and sprinted down to the lower level. Will was flying after me, yelling something about not drinking too much and to stay away from the drugs, but I didn't care, I didn't care, I didn't care at all.

A hour and a half later, some part of my mind knew I was probably as drunk as you could get, but the other intoxicated half still didn't care.

"Fuck," I giggled wildly. I didn't know whether it was ten minutes ago or forty that I'd done my last shot and seen Jace and Kaelie making out, but I couldn't stop laughing. The whole world was just so. . . funny. I couldn't even remember why I'd started drinking in the first place. "Fuck it!"

"Who's fucking who?" I squinted at the person standing next to me. Long, sparkly black hair and a pretty dress. . . Must've been Izzy.

I laughed again. "Izzy, you're so funny!"

Isabelle's mouth went into a lopsided smile as she stumbled in her stilettos. "Damn, girl, you are _smashed._"

I pouted. "It's so _fun_, though!" I pointed to the bar— wherever the hell that was— and the bartender. "But that dickhead over there won't give me any more to drink!"

"Wanna get high instead?" Iz offered slyly, and opened up her hand. Curled in her palm was a blurry tab of something I'd never seen before. I leaned a little too far backwards and fell into someone with fuzzy dark hair and happy blue eyes. . . Ella, I think?

"Ella!" I squealed, delighted. "You're here too!"

Ella laughed brilliantly, swinging a needle in her hand. "What's that, Izzy?"

Isabelle winked. "A Strawberry. Want one?"

"Like hell," Ella tossed back easily, and accepted the tab Isabelle handed her. Next, Izzy handed me a Strawberry, and I squeezed it excitedly in my hand.

Isabelle smirked at me. "Have a nice trip, girls." She popped the tab in and Ella and I did the same.

At first, I felt nothing. Then, it was like someone had lit my stomach on fire. I gasped, collapsing to the floor, not paying attention to Isabelle or Ella anymore. The flames raced up my spine, inciting my insides into an inferno. It didn't hurt, though. Instead, it felt so right. Why had I waited so long?

The rush took its course, going on and on. I stared up at the ceiling of Pandemonium, watching as the dubstep turned into floral Catherine wheels going over the scene. Vaguely, I was aware of Ella giggling madly next to me, and Isabelle pointing at some dude that had a head full of tentacles.

And then I realized: Finally, _finally_, I had forgotten. And it was heaven and hell together in a straitjacket, almost just like Ella had said.

Sometime later— I didn't know if it was minutes or hours— I turned to Ella. She was sitting next to me, laughing about something I didn't know about. "Ella, why do you cut?"

"Clary, you wouldn't understand." Her words were slightly garbled, but I made them out all right through my blurry, high brain. "I just got so desperate to feel something, even if it was pain, and it was the perfect outlet. I wasn't hurting anyone but myself, I wasn't locked in screaming matches with Will or Cecily, and I could focus on something other than heroin."

"How—" I stuttered as it felt like fire was racing through my blood again. "What does it feel like?"

Ella spoke slowly when she answered, "At first, it's a burning, a bright fire. Then, as the blood comes out, it fades to a stinging that feels so good even though it's bad. And then you can't stop thinking about the blood, the color of it, and the way it feels when you cut. You just can't stop, and the deeper you cut, the sicker sense of satisfaction you get. Sometimes it feels like I've lit my arm on fire, other times the pain comes after the skin around your cut puffs up in wine and white. But either way, you find yourself addicted."

I thought about it as Ella pushed a needle into her skin. In a way, cutting didn't sound extremely different from what I was doing right now. And then when I took the second Strawberry Izzy shakily handed me, the fires in my gut flared again, and I fell into the light as a high tore throughout my body.

I was forgetting.

* * *

***waves awkwardly* um, hi guys! Long time no see. . . Which is completely my fault. I'm so so sorry for not updating sooner! THREE WEEKS IS TOO LONG! Not being sarcastic there. I've been having cases of writer's block with EVERYTHING and school has just gotten crazier. Nearly passed out now, but hey, the damn chapter is up!**

**This is a shorter chapter for me, but I was dying to get this one up on , so hopefully that's ok :) **

**At least in the time I've been having writer's block, I've been thinking of horrible ways to end this story. . . Tell me, how fucked up would it be if I ever ended something with "and it was just a dream?" not that I'd be that cruel. . . or would I? ;) **

**Also, if anyone doesn't know what Paranoid Schizophrenia is, it's a strain of schizophrenia where you get hallucinations, delusions, paranoia, and things like that. Rather awful, really. And Clary was on some really strong meds, so that's why she hasn't shown too many symptoms yet. **

**The drug Clary, Izzy, and Ella all did was LSD. LSD highs are called trips, so maybe that explains Isabelle's "have a nice trip" comment. . . ? **

**Chapter One of my new Lily x James fanfic is almost finished, so that should be up soon. And I'm STILL working on the updates for Clockwork Enigma, Clockwork Academy, Dark Clarity, and whatever else I managed to forget. So yeah. If I'm bloody lucky, those might be up by Sunday/Monday ish. . . **

**Pretty please review! Really need more feedback here. . . *hint hint wink wink nudge nudge* But here's a big fat thanks to all the readers, reviewers, favoriters, and followers! I want to send y'all Jace and Will because y'all are FREAKING AMAZING! **

**Toasty: Omg that toast crumb thing is a horrible mental image hahaha. Toasty sounds like a stalker. . . . lol. I laughed so hard when I read your review though! hahahaha. Thanks for reviewing!**

**AnnaW14: I'm probably going to include a Clary/Jace/Will love triangle for sure in this fic. I hope Clary's problems interest you enough :) And thank you loads for the review!**

**Morning and Eve: Yeah, go Will and Clary! I'm happy you like that chapter :D Thank you for the review!**

**DazedObsessedandConfused: Damn, that's a good comeback. . . There's going to be another Clary v. Three Blondes face-off, so I'm keeping that one in mind. . . Thanks for reviewing!**

**Amp1342: And I still can't decide! Idk if I WANT to decide. . . Ah well some good things must come to an end. . . Thanks for reviewing!**

**RacheltheShadowhunter: Sorry it took me so long to! I hope you enjoy this chapter XD Thanks for the review!**

**MortalKd1997: Yay, I'm super happy that COTF led you to discover Cill :) Yeah, believe me, I'm in the same boat with Clace and Cill. . . undecided! Thank you so much for the review :)**

**Lozza1131: That's such a good idea that I think I might use it :D Thank you! And thanks a ton for the review :-) **

**KittyCat6264: Did he or didn't he? :) Yes I'm still so up in the air with these ships! haha thanks so much! Thank you for reviewing too!**

**CandyStars121: Hmmm. . . Everyone has such awesome ideas about these ships! yeesh yours is so cool! And here's the update :) Thanks a billion for reviewing!**

**Little mixer XD: I'm sorry you had to wait so long for the update, but here it is :) I'm glad I managed to add some suspense though hehe :) Thanks for the review!**

**Guest: Here it is :) I hope you like it! Thank you for the review!**

**Guest: Idk, I might. I've never written one of those before (since I have problems writing fluff hehe) but if there's an occasion for it, I might stick one in. . . ;) Thanks for reviewing!**


	9. Chapter 9: Easy is the Descent

**DISCLAIMER: no no no no. Although I wish I did. **

**A few. . . erm, f-bombs are dropped in this chapter. FYI.**

**Chapter Nine: Easy Is the Descent**

* * *

_Facilis descensus Averno;_

_Noctes atque dies patet atri ianua Ditis;_

_Sed revocare gradum superasque evader ad auras,_

_Hoc opus, hic labor est. _

-Virgil, _The Aeneid_

* * *

Someone was brutally shoving an axe into my skull.

And then someone else was busy stomping on all my other limbs.

I blinked, imagining the crude stitches holding my eyelids together were being ripped apart. I heard the skin tearing. And then my eyes fluttered open, and I was flat on my back, staring up at a sky with the fading, pink-orange-yellow-purple shades of a sunset.

_What the. . ._

I sat up; relieving myself from the bruise the concrete had given, wincing. The shoes with the heels I so detested were still plastered to my feet, and I was still wearing the same glamorous party dress I had been the previous night. Except it didn't look so glamorous when it was crumpled. Not to mention the gross-looking stains lacing the front.

The party dress. Right. That damn party at Pandemonium that I'd been coerced into going to. Forced is an equally nice word too, however. I searched through my mind, trying to remember anything from last night. There were a few jumbled, blurry pieces, like snapshots of someone else's crazy life.

I remembered the first drink I had: the vodka bottle stolen from Will. Because. . . because. . . Why had I done that?

_Whatever. Leave it be, Clary. _I flopped back onto the pavement, my head clunking clumsily against it just as a taxi rushed by. I could see the driver's eyes bugging out of his head like a cartoon as he roared past me. I lifted my hand in a little wave.

I imagined how completely absurd this whole situation must've looked to him. A beat-up teenager in a dress, clearly suffering those "morning after" shocks, lying on a sidewalk in one of the more shadowy parts of London, waving at him. Ha. I snorted, then laughed a little louder. Sorry, the hilarity of the situation was treading on my sleepless, partying night and day spent knocked out.

Eventually, I pathetically shoved myself off the pavement and yanked down my dress, which had somehow been hoisted up past the level of my dignity. Where was I? Better question: where the hell was everyone else, and what was I doing sleeping on a sidewalk?

I staggered back to Pandemonium. The light-up neon sign out front that spelt out its name in three parts was already all geared up for the night. Rolling, heavy trance music— heavy just like the axe inside my head– boomed along the street. Wow. The sun hadn't even gone down, and Pandemonium was roaring to go.

I slowly approached the bouncer. Slowly because how graceful is Clarissa Morgenstern in stilettos? And also because the world was still spinning under my feet. I quickly snagged some kind of post thing by the outskirts of Pandemonium to keep my balance.

The bouncer, who heard me, turned my way and snapped sharply, "What the hell do you think _you're_ doing?"

I smoothed down my hair, attempting a flirty smile, not the kind of grin that screams you've just done more drugs and alcohol than you could handle the previous night. Unfortunately, I felt like the words "LSD" and "shots" were scrawled in bloodred Sharpie over every inch of my forehead. I also felt like they were screaming, _Over here, over here! Look at this lightweighted bimbo! _

"Do I need to repeat myself a second time?" growled the bouncer. I could practically hear his screech of "_Security!_" and already envision a short, chicken-legged fifteen-, almost sixteen-, year old being hauled into the police cab in varying degrees of mortification. And then the rumor mill back at Idris. . . _The redhead was arrested! OMG! Criminal! _Not happening.

"No, sir," I said quickly, then slapped the flirty act back on again like Kaelie Fey changing her shirt for the fifth time in two hours.

"Then why are you still standing here?" The bouncer gave me a once-over. "And how old are you? Thirteen?"

"I'm fifteen!" I said, outraged, and then batted my eyelashes. "Can I have a favor? Real quick?"

The bouncer shifted his pose, crossing his arms. That wasn't a yes, precisely, but it wasn't a no. So maybe I was at the stage where as long as I didn't pull a gun on him, he wouldn't pull security on me? Who knew. "Depends."

I sighed dramatically, trying to win some sympathy. "Look, I got really, really lost with a group of my friends this evening."

He raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Then where are they?"

_Get talking, Clary. _"See, that's the problem," I began hurriedly. "This is kinda embarrassing, but they all got smashed and went off somewhere else. I wanted to stay sober, so they ditched me off in the dark alleyways of London with no directions back to our boarding school or _anything." _I sniffed theatrically.

The bouncer's stance appeared to relax a tad bit. Thank the lord. Did it work, though?

He grumbled under his breath for a while before he finally said, "Fine, kid. I'll help you. What boarding school is this?"

"Oh my God, thank you so much!" I squealed in a hopefully girly tone.

"Yeah, yeah." He waved it off in a dismissive manner. "What's your bloody boarding school?"

"It's the stupid Idris one," I told him, waiting for his reaction.

A number of profanities came spilling out of his mouth. If I'd heard anything like that in Brooklyn, I would've thought the person to be a right criminal. But now, I hardly flinched. F-bombs and s-words and the whole lot of them were like next-door neighbors now.

I considered asking him if he'd like a bar of soap, but no. I told myself to just wait until he got it out of his system.

"Idris?!" the bouncer choked out. "The one where filthy-rich preppy heirs and heiresses go to bide their time because their lazy-ass parents are to busy to give a shit for them?"

"Something like that," I evaded. Was that the rumor the general, oblivious public had about Idris? They were partially right, but so wrong it was like they were being hit upside the head with a frying pan. "Except I wouldn't say I'm a heiress or anything of that sort."

He regarded me carefully through a new lens; more respectfully, almost. Like I could land a sick punch on him just because he thought I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth.

A group of teenagers shuffled up next to me. I wondered if they were staring at me, and prayed they weren't. While the bouncer went back inside Pandemonium for something, I discreetly observed the newcomers.

Most of them looked sort of out of place among each other. There was a boy with strange blue-green eyes, and a blonde girl holding his hand. There was also several teens that had the jet-black hair and pretty blue eyes of the Herondales, except they weren't the Herondales. Or. . . I subtly leaned forward to get a better look at the tall, dark haired boy and the girl of a similar likeness with to Cecily, nearly. They were both laughing. The blonde girl's gaze met mine, and I instantaneously looked at my feet. When I looked back up, the bouncer was outside again and had ushered them into the club. They were all gone into the strobe lights in a matter of seconds.

The bouncer thrust a scrap of paper at me, effectively jolting me out of my reverie. "Here's your ticket back to that Idris place, kid."

I jumped, but accepted the paper. There was a hastily drawn map with scribbly directions from Pandemonium's alley to the holier-than-thou and oh-so mighty Idris High School. "Thanks!"

"Don't mention it. Really," he said gruffly. "I could get fired. Now get the hell out of here."

I whirled around and set off down the alleyway. The sun was setting, and I nearly smacked into a crowd of twenty-something goths, all with lots of eyeliner and bedhead and earphones dangling from their ears. I mumbled a short apology and skirted around the ringleader before he could persecute me for accidentally stepping on his foot. It'd be quite the task to find my way back to Idris, but I'd manage.

I squinted at my makeshift map, weaving my way down another street as I looked a little closer at the footnote on the bottom and laughed. At the very bottom of the paper, the bouncer had written: _Idris can suck my dick! Cool dress though. How much cocaine did you do? _

I frowned. I didn't do cocaine, just Strawberries. Or _did_ I? I took one fast glance down at the front of my dress, and sure enough, the telltale white powder that was nowhere anything as innocent as sugar or flour was spread all down the front. Like I'd been wiping my hands on my dress. Or someone had grabbed me and I'd pulled away.

I slapped a hand up to my forehead, brushed it off, and hearing footsteps behind me, scurried along before night could completely come over London.

* * *

Idris looked exactly the same. Except not. At night, it was like all the ugliness of the truth of it was masked away under the stars. At that moment, I officially decided I liked night the best. I felt fresh and clean; completely whole once again.

Loitering around outside the dorms were the Three Blondes. I suppressed a groan. Of course I'd gotten lucky during the rest of the week, but the minute I come staggering back to school with total "day after" effects all over me, from my drug-stained dress to my rat's-nest hair, the Three Blondes pick _that _opportune moment to wait around for me.

Or were they waiting for me? As I drew closer to the entrance where they were lounging around for the moon and stars to shine out of their holy asses, there was no "Ginger alert!" or "Hey, ugly" or any of their usual nasty raging bitch comments. How very. . . _suspicious _of them.

Kaelie was wearing a once-glamorous party dress—the sort you'd expect to find in the high-class clubs in the non-skeevy area of London. Glitter that'd fallen off her dress surrounded her feet in a ring. _Bow down to the queen! _

Jessamine was oh-so casually leaning against a wall, a cigarette dangling elegantly from her fingers. Every so often she'd brush her ringlet-y hair back into its coiffed curls. Like Kaelie, she was dressed to the nines in the attire of someone about to hit a club.

Camille was applying lipstick. This was 100% normal for Camille. You could always count on her to have a tube of ruby-red lipstick out. Even if you never see her in the act, just assume that somewhere in the world, Camille Belcourt is applying lipstick. But the thing that struck me as odd was that she was putting it on all over her face. And I mean _all. Over. Her. Face. _It was like she was doing everything in her power to miss her mouth. I watched, dumbstruck, as she began to dab it onto her skirt, giggling.

Then it hit me: Were the Three Blondes actually _drunk? _Or high, or whatever? Because they were acting slightly out of character. Okay, fine, more than slightly. I was a mere three feet away from Kaelie, who was still off in la-la land.

"Kaelie?" I waved a hand in front of her face. Her dilated blue eyes had no response, not even a blink. What the. . . Normally, Kaelie would be all up in my face with a sneer slapped onto hers. "Kaelie?"

Jessamine blinked lazily at me, her movements slow and languid. "Is that you, Clary?"

Whoa. That was new. Jessamine _never_ called me by my actual name. "Morgenstern" or more commonly, "bitch" seemed to do quite nicely for her, which only confirmed my suspicions: She was high. Of course.

"Do you know anyone else who has red hair?" I snapped at her and regretted it a second later. "Sorry."

"Where've you been, you bitch?" The words were meant to sound harsh, but were instead about as harmless as the smoke that poured from Jessamine's mouth when she spoke. "You've been mi. . . missing all day."

I was silent for a while, unsure how to respond. "I was out. Bitch."

Jessamine cracked a half-smile. "I knew you had it in you." She coughed out lowly, "_Wh-ore._"

I shrugged. For some reason, Jessamine's typical insults didn't bother me much at all. "Eh, look who's talking. What's up with Kaelie?" I jerked my head in the blonde's direction, who was now spinning and giggling.

"She's drunk." Jessamine didn't sound overly concerned. "What club were you at? Was it any good?"

I attempted to brush off the front of my dress. If I went in with cocaine spilled all down the front, people would automatically assume I'd done all of it. . . But then again, perhaps I had. I didn't know. "Pandemonium. Ever been there?"

Jessamine blew a smoke ring, watching it feather off into the night almost wistfully. "Once. They've been worried about you, attention-seeker."

"Who?" I purposefully ignored the last bit.

Jessamine scowled defiantly as she took another drag. I coughed, fanning away the smelly cloud of smoke as it floated towards me. "Jace. Will. Them."

_Goddamnit_. I slapped a hand up to my forehead in frustration. I'd forgotten about Jace and Will, and if I knew anything about them, I'd be skinned alive once I set foot into the upper floor of the dorms. "Really? Can they just catch a damn break for once?"

"No," Jessamine mumbled through a mouthful of smoke and a cigarette butt. "They're gonna kill you, ginger bitch."

How flattering of Jessamine. "Ginger bitch" was a new one. But I digress. Back to Will and Jace, my future murders. "Thanks a hell of a lot, Jessamine," I said acidly.

She smirked, flipping her perfect, smoky blonde curls over one shoulder and hiked up the hem of her sparkly dress a little more in hopes of allure. "You're welcome. Good luck with the men." Cough. "_Slut._"

"You too," I called over my shoulder as I stomped into the dorm. The door shut behind me, blocking out smoky, nightfire London. I could hear the Three Blondes' faint peals of high-pitched laughter from outside.

The common room was blessedly empty. The couches were blank, the tables and chairs empty. There wasn't a soul in sight. I strained to hear any audible noise from the floor above, listening. . . listening. . . There was a shuffling sound, then a BANG, and finally—

An earsplitting shout. Yells wracked the upstairs, and I jumped, and then flung myself up the staircase. What the hell was going on? Was someone hurt? A million thoughts in this vein continued to fly around my head like a Snitch as I pounded up the stairs.

Doors were being shoved open, and heads were popping out.

"What the fuck?" cried a silvery-haired Sebastian, looking ruffled and royally pissed at the same time. "That was my sleep, man!"

"Shut the _fuck_ up, you nasty little fuckrag," snarled-yelled Jordan from the other end of the hall. Maia appeared next to him, and seemed like she was trying to calm him. Jordan took a deep breath, his fists clenching and nostrils flaring before slamming his door back shut so hard it cracked the frame.

"Oh yeah, fucker?" bellowed Sebastian. Small murmurs of "Calm down, Sebastian" echoed around the hall. Sebastian continued to furiously roar things in Jordan's direction, hoping to provoke the other boy enough to retaliate. Nothing happened, and Sebastian also shut himself back into his room with a vicious clam.

Another "What the bloody _hell?!"_ came rushing around the corridor. I glanced up to see Jon, his features contorted in a combination of worry and anger as he sprinted towards me. "What the hell, Clarissa?"

Uh-oh. I was in for it if he used my full name. "What the hell _what,_ Jonathan?" I mimicked almost coldly.

"Where _were_ you?" exploded Jon angrily. "One minute, we were at Pandemonium, which you shouldn't have been at anyway—"

"How dare you?" I interrupted, feeling the slow simmer of rage underneath my skin start to bubble. "I can be wherever the fuck I want, thanks! Besides, it's really none of your business," I ended sourly. "Thanks so much for your brotherly concern, though."

"Oh. _Hell._ No!" Jon's voice cut effectively through my cloud of thoughts. So close. I had my hand on the doorknob to my room, having already punched in the code. "Don't you walk away from me, Clarissa!"

"Watch me," I spat back at him. Jon was just being so _insufferable! _The minute I stepped into the dorms, he just _had_ to fly at me and demand to know where I'd been. Well, if he fancied himself so concerned, why didn't he check for me when he left in the _first_ place?! I mean, honestly. And then he just goes and blows up at me over it? Why, pray? Was it because I had somehow found myself inextricably left alone and behind? Well, sorry, Jon, but I stopped to ask for directions first instead of scurrying straight back to your side! Get over it.

"Then you'll be watching me open your door again," snarled Jon, his dark eyes furious. I laughed at him, and promptly shut the door. I had to physically restrain myself from yelling something along the lines of, "Good luck, jackass" back at him. Pounding on the door ensured.

The room was empty. A book lay half-open on Ella's bed; her nightstand drawer semi-closed. There was no sign of Ella herself, though. She was missing. . . as predicted.

I flopped down on my bed, resisting the impulse to cover my ears like a toddler so I could block out the incessant banging on the door that were punctured by, "Open the damn door, Clarissa!" Instead, I settled for closing my eyes and pretending that I was on a paradise-esque island.

Jon's voice faded into the background as I slid off my bed, coming to rest on my knees. I stared at the semi-opened nightstand drawer that was Ella's on the other side of the room. I knew it was silly, but I felt like the contents were screaming at me. So very carefully and precisely, I slipped over to the nightstand and eased the drawer open. Ella's knife glimmered and glared up at me, daring me to steal it in broken-up whispers. I looked back at it for a good long time. But then I I did. I took the knife out. And then I put it under my bed in a box.

Besides, it'd just be my little secret, right?

Well, that's what I thought.

* * *

The door swung open around twelve-thirty in the morning that night. I had just changed out of my sticky party dress that smelled of smoke and liquor and was currently lying in bed, pondering if poaching Ella's knife was the right thing to do. I'd never think of an answer, though, because just then Ella waltzed into the room really late. This was late, even for her.

I sat up immediately, the sheets falling around my waist. Ella's figure was silhouetted in the door frame for a heartbeat before she softly closed the door and darted over to turn her lamp on.

I swiveled her way, hundreds of questions stampeding through my mind. Where had she been? What was she doing? Why did I get left alone at Pandemonium? What'd happened today? Who was yelling earlier? And then came—

"Sorry if I woke you up, Clary." Ella's hand was twitching spastically, and I frowned, watching her carefully. It was as if she had a bad itch and couldn't wait to get to it or something. Weird.

"You're fine, I was already awake doing. . ." I cut myself off immediately. "Doing homework."

I could see Ella's eyes narrowing. Dammit, dammit, dammit! "What classes?"

If there was one useful thing I had ever learned from Jon, it was how to pull off a successful lie. And holy shit, was it ever useful. "English," I said, obviously naming a class that Ella wasn't in with me. "And science. The homework took ages." Around here, I decided to swiftly change the topic. "Ella, what happened at that party?"

"It was, well, a party," Ella replied warily. "With the druggies and drunks and the dirty dancers and all of it."

"What did I do there?" I wasn't sure if I wanted to know if I'd completely embarrassed myself or not.

Ella rubbed a hand over her face, sighing. "Damn, Clary. You were equal parts drunk _and _high. Nearly smashed a tequila bottle over Will's head when he came to drag you home. . . Stole some drugs from a dude and hid in the alleyway when we came looking for you. When we left, we still couldn't find you. Will swore something awful had happened to you. Jace was making out with Kaelie. I was passed out. Izzy was giggling about the nonexistent fireworks in the sky. Jonathan had already left, and Jessamine and Camille were still in the club, grinding on some poor blokes."

I wrinkled my nose. The mental image that provoked was. . . utterly revolting. "Thanks for sharing. So in other words, I completely made a fool of myself, right?"

"Don't feel badly about it," Ella reassured. "Girl, you were smashed. And we all made fools of ourselves at that party. Damn Seb for bringing a whole bag of liquor. And damn me for bringing enough drugs for thirty people."

I groaned. "Jesus Christ. I woke up on a pavement this evening. That was just peachy, you know? And Jon is going to string me up by my neck. If Valentine ever catches wind of this, I'm dead."

"It's under wraps." Ella's hands began to shake again. "Not that any of our parents care, but whatever. Can I turn off the light?"

I shrugged and lay back down. "Be my guest."

Ella flicked the switch on her lamp and it plunged the room into darkness. The hallway outside was peaceful and silent, like a tomb, almost. I shivered suddenly, and was nearly asleep when the dragging noise of Ella's drawer being slowly pulled open jolted me out of sleep. I quietly turned my body towards Ella and saw her pawing at the edges of the drawer, heard her mutters of panic.

The box under my bed was going up in flames. I was sure of it. I felt like "CLARY STOLE THE KNIFE" was dripped on me in glow-in-the-dark ink like a twisted banner. The drawer rustled shut. Ella began to pace. And then for one minute after I turned back around so I was facing the wall again, I felt her gaze, burning and white-hot, searing a hole in my back.

The door opened and closed. Ella was gone. Again.

* * *

**PLEASE FEEL FREE TO MURDER ME. **

**GUYS. THIS HAS BEEN WAAAY TOO LONG. AND IT'S YOURS TRULY'S FAULT. **

**Omg. . . . I AM SO SORRY! God I can't believe it's taken me this long to update. . . bad bad bad bad! For those of you that haven't read my profile thingy, I've been sick, school killed me, and I got a new dog (if you like long explanations please read profile). That's what happened. I snuck onto the computer and wrote like hell. And voila. . . SHIT CHAPTER! You guys can scream at me all you want. This chapter is such a filler and short and odd, so be my guest. **

**As for my other fanfics, I haven't given up on any of them! It's just taking me so long. . . Screw you, writer's block. The Clockwork updates are nowhere near this week. The new fanfics are close. And Dark Clarity is half finished. THIS IS INSANE! But I'm trying, I really am. So. . . rant at me, but just know that they're still going! **

**I thought of the most killer ending for this fanfic. . . Would you prefer to be slaughtered by utter rage towards the author or just feel really, really, really, REALLY sad? Mwahahaha **

**BIG HUGE EFFING THANKS TO ALL THE READERS, REVIEWERS, FAVORITERS, AND FOLLOWERS! Y'all keep me alive on here. Actually. So keep up the damn good work! **

**Review? Pretty please? *wink wink nudge nudge* JACE WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER! **

**PinkHerondale: Oh gosh thank you so much! *blushes* Sorry about CA, the updating is definitely coming though. . . I feel your pain! That's a good idea, I'll keep that in mind :) Thanks for reviewing!**

**Morning and Eve: I wish I could :( If only there were actual dudes out there JUST LIKE THEM. . . I think I would die. Yep, Clary definitely has problems. . . omg just wait! Nope, Jon is steering clear of this crap. . . He is supposedly pure. Pretty much! I'm basically putting Clary through hell and back. . . Along with Will, Jace, and Ella. Thanks for the review :)**

**Vannluv: Hey, that's okay! I'm sorry for not updating in ages :) YES I AM SO TORN. These ships are freaking ruining my life haha. Thanks for reviewing!**

**KittyCat6264: Jon is going to be PISSED when he finds out everything that Clary's done. That's gonna be a fun scene to write. . . XD Thank you for the review!**

**Fearlessshadowhunter: Ah yes, the Three Blondes! In the works in a huge faceoff between the bitches that started half of Clary's 99 problems. . . Thanks for the review :)**

**Guest: Goodness, sorry it took me so long to update! I meant to update a LOT sooner, but then. . . SCHOOL EFFING HAPPENED. School is pissing me off. Majorly. Just wait until summer; I'll be updating more frequently XD Thanks for the review!**


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